Journeys in the Valley of the Shadow of Death
by TheSouthernScribe
Summary: After the unexpected death of her father, family secrets leads Bonnie Bennett to the doorstep of the sheriff of Area Five.
1. Intro  Revelations

**_Intro - Revelations_**

Death…loss…unhappiness became a way of life for Bonnie Bennett.

The young woman stood over her father's open grave and released the white rose from her grip as the workers slowly began to shovel dirt on top of the embellished wood. The crowd was small, a few of Solomon Bennett's colleagues, Bonnie's friends and confidants, and a small contigent of unwelcome visitors who just wanted to see what would be said and done. Sol Bennett's death had been anything but a supernatural occurrence; his demise was the result of an over zealous robber in a gas station hike. A single gunshot wound to the man's chest had ended his life. At twenty-one, the youngest Bennett found her self completely alone.

It was ultimately her choice…

Tyler Lockwood reached for her hand; his unspoken emotions ebbed and flowed in currents from his palm to hers. Now, simply wasn't the time. Empathy filled Elena's eyes and Bonnie fought to avoid her gaze. Every one in her circle understood Bonnie's situation all too well; even, Damon Salvatore. The vampire sat on the hood of the sleek family car, his ice blue eyes shielded by the expensive lens of his sunglasses. She identified with the eldest Salvatore the most.

Tears were not a luxury.

Her mother's abandonment…

The realization of who and what she was…

The passing of her beloved grandmother…

Bitter consequences of poorly made decisions intended to protect and save the ones the young witch loved the most. Bonnie was the source of most of their and her unhappiness. Caroline was a vampire – Jeremy a hate filled vigilante – Tyler a little boy still in need of his father's love.

Yet life carried on.

The day after the funeral Bonnie entered her father's home, tasked with packing his belongings, emptying his home, and finally putting her former residence on the market. She smiled when her fingers grazed the markings in the kitchen that tracked her height. Laughter reverberated throughout the vacant rooms when a box of photos tumbled from the top shelf of his closet. There Bonnie found the picture of her mother taped against chapter four and verse ten of the Song of Solomon in her father's dilapidated Bible, a twinge of regret surfaced on the outer layers of her heart. Bonnie ripped the photo from page and flipped it over.

_Shreveport__ 1991 – Newlyweds  
_  
Bonnie had forgotten the features she shared with the woman; heart shaped face, crooked mouth, and long brown locks. That's where the similarities ended. She'd read her mother's goodbye letter on several occasions.

_Sol, I can't._

Those were the only words she'd written; not even a name scribbled at the bottom of the page. Now Bonnie wondered if the can't was a result of the gift traveling through the Bennett bloodline or if the woman was such a self-centered bitch that she couldn't find the heart to raise and love her own child.

The book fell from her hands and an unmarked envelope slipped from its pages. When Bonnie retrieved the age – stained paper she discovered a note written her father's hand.

_Babygirl, _

_If you are reading this I am gone. It pains me even in death to be separated from you. My dearest daughter despite the misunderstandings and disagreements between us, know that I always loved you. Mere words are not enough to express the pride I feel towards you and the maturity in which you use your gift. Everything happens for a reason Bonnie, do not condemn yourself for the things you could not control. _

_Your journey will grow darker and more difficult in the days that follow. The answers and strength you need lie with the only woman I ever loved. Find your mother Bonnie; she's waiting for you. _

_Always, _

_Solomon Bennett _

Finally tears for the man Bonnie called father fell from her eyes. Furiously she brushed the water from her cheeks, ignoring the caw of the crow at the window. She reached for her bag, digging for the cell at the bottom of her Louis. Bonnie punched the numbers written at the end of Solomon Bennett's note into the keypad on her screen.

"Fangtasia…blah…blah…blah…America's premier Vampire bar…this is Pam…speak."

Bonnie's voice shook as she responded, "This is Bonnie Bennett…I'm looking for..."

The line quickly went dead, and with each subsequent call Bonnie made, the trend continued.

The only way she would get the answers she needed was face to face.

"Shreveport, here I come."


	2. Solemn Goodbyes

_Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and thrown this story on their alerts list. I really appreciate all your kind and encouraging words. Fingers crossed, I hope I won't disappoint. We'll catch up with Eric and Pam in Chapter 2. For now, Bonnie's tying up a few loose ends in Mystic Falls. _

**_Solemn Goodbyes_**

Bonnie heard Damon's steps and accompanying grunts as he took on the stairs three at a time. She wasn't surprised when he threw open her father's bedroom door. Nor did she jump when he stood in the same entryway, arms open wide as he declared in typical and obnoxious Damon fashion, "Honey, I'm home."

The corners of her mouth curved into a wry grin but Bonnie worked diligently, continuing to pack away books, photos, and other inconsequential items as he stood waiting for a reaction.

She swallowed her amusement and greeted her uninvited guest, "Good evening Damon."

He pressed further, spurring her on, in the hopes of provoking a moment of rage by way of her irritation. The eldest Salvatore referred to their exchanges as hate – sex foreplay.

"Halliwell, you really need to learn how to answer when I call." He wiped his mud covered boots on the plush white carpeting in the bedroom, "Also try locking your front door. Seriously someone is going to drain you dry one day."

Bonnie turned arms folded across her chest, with a perfect smile lighting her face. Her tone dripping with honey, "What have I done to deserve the pleasure of your visit?"

"No snark? No attitude? Eye rolls…deep breaths? How about what are you doing here god of hotness and desire?" Bonnie stood unmoved by his taunts, "You're boring me Bennett." Damon mocked her, hands on hips, and twirling the strands of his hair around a finger

"Death of the homeowner," Her voice faltered but she quickly recovered, "grants you free reign, no need for an invite…even I know that."

Something in Damon's eyes changed; a flicker of concern, a momentary lapse into the genuine love he felt for Bonnie. He stepped closer, hands shoved into his front pockets, "I'm worried about you." His gaze penetrated the hard exterior masking the tumultuous emotions concealed under the strong face she wore daily.

The energy in the room shifted, and Bonnie's mood was the obvious controlling factor. The air grew heavier, thicker; it reeked of her anger and unbridled passion. Her jaw tightened as she spoke, "You lost that right Damon."

The power flickered as a pop of thunder crashed and lightining danced across the night sky.

He threw his hands up in the air, unafraid of her side show antics, and hurt girlfriend visage. "Enough already Bonnie, I've apologized. Hell, I've even admitted that what I did was beyond fucked up. When are you going to forgive me?"

The witch moved closer, craning her neck as she stood on her tip toes to meet his eyes, "Forgive you?" For once she read the fear burdening his features, her laugh unnerved him and the vampire took a half step back. "Damon you slept with my best friend - your brother's wife. I forgave you, but I'll never forget."

Despite his better judgment, Damon reached for Bonnie, hesitantly placing his hands against her skin, testing for a flame to match the fire burning behind the witch's glare. Gently, he cupped her face, before he allowed the tips of his finger to skim the smooth lines of her neck, tracing the barely visible scars along her jugular. Finally his hands rested on her shoulders, his beautiful eyes shielded by thick black lashes, "Bonnie…please."

She shuddered, melting under the velvet lining his voice. She wanted nothing more than to give in to the sensations created by his touch and consent to his offer of comfort during her difficult time. Instead she remained obstinate, "You need to leave, Tyler's on his way."

Bonnie felt Damon's grip tighten, "You don't want Fido; he will never be me."

"Whatever gets you through the night Salvatore?"

She regained control of her body and eased from his hold, returning her attention to the open boxes littering the floor.

"You get me through the night. I remember how you taste, just before…"

Bonnie interrupted his trip down memory lane. "Not tonight Damon. My father died." Her voice escalated, "Do you understand that, for once this is not about you. I have nothing…I lose everything I love…"

It was as close as Bonnie would ever come to admitting what she still felt for him. She collapsed against his chest when he embraced her, fighting with the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, "You've got me. You've always got me." She hated that his words soothed her. Silently Bonnie cursed her body for responding to the cool lips that met hers. He whispered his plea into her mouth, "Anything you need, just ask."

"Let me go."

The phrase held literal and figurative meaning and Damon understood it clearly. He released her and stood with his back turned and his hand pressed against the wall. Damon kept his eyes trained on the gloss covered walls, attempting to hide the hurt registered on his face from her rejection.

Softly, Bonnie began, "I need to go away for a while." His back remained turned, "Keep everybody safe. Take care of yourself." She paused in lieu of a sarcasm filled answer only to watch Damon Salvatore walk from the room and down the stairs. The house shook at its core when the demon slammed the door.

_-Solemn Goodbyes-_

Bonnie recognized the hum of Tyler's engine when he pulled into the garage. The man wasted no time padding through the laundry room and kitchen to find her curled up by the fireplace in her father's leather recliner. Warmth radiated off of him in waves and Bonnie didn't protest when he scooped her up, cradling her against his chest, and returned both their bodies to the chair.

"Hey."

She loved how his voice fluctuated between tenor and bass.

"Hey yourself."

The full moon had passed, but Bonnie could still smell the moonlight and woods on his skin. She inhaled, cataloging his scent, recording it to memory, for the nights they would spend apart.

"Movers are coming tomorrow, the storage space for your dad's stuff is covered for a year, and I just picked up two one – way tickets to Jamaica."

Bonnie never had to ask with Tyler, he anticipated her every need. The reputation as the town brat, bad boy, and neighborhood dick still held merit, but he reserved the real Tyler Lockwood just for her.

"Ty…"

"Before you say no, Mason will look after my mom, and Ric promised to keep Jeremy and his favorite bag of stakes in line and off the streets." He ran his fingers through her hair, "You need to get away. We need…"

Bonnie stood, distancing herself from the calm he created within her. "I've got a lead on my mom. She _needs_ to know about dad."

He was behind her in two steps, arms wrapped around her waist, and his chin resting on her shoulder, "Okay, so we find your mom, and then we get away."

"No we...I have to do this alone."

She felt him stiffen. He had more in common with Damon then he would ever know; neither of them took rejection well. She braced herself for the emotional firestorm.

"Bullshit, Bonnie." His voice echoed off the barren walls.

Damon and Tyler were wired for two settings only, _calm_ and _furious_.

"What is this about...the bloodsucker? Are you confused again?"

Tyler spun her around, a mixture of anger and sadness playing about his face. She pushed aside her frustration and worked to reassure him.

"No, this is about me." She grabbed his face. "I need answers."

"Bon, you don't have to do this alone. I'm here."

"I know babe, but I need to do this alone. Just try and understand. Nothing is going to change. Damon and I are over."

She hoped he missed the way her face contorted with the painful admission. Bonnie was trying, her relationship with Tyler was better, healthier, but…

"I love you."

She wasn't there yet and the urgency that accompanied those three little words expelled from his mouth frightened the shit out of her.

Bonnie chose not to answer and offered a kiss that led to a moment of physical abandonment.

She watched him sleeping quietly by the light of the fire as she dressed, praying that her movements wouldn't awaken him. There was no courage in her goodbye. By morning Bonnie Bennett would be one step closer to finding her mother and ending the secrecy that had surrounded one side of her family tree for twenty – one years.


	3. Friend of the Dead

_Thank you, so much to everyone who has read, commented, added to favorites, and thrown this story on alert. This next chapter focuses mostly on Eric and how he knew Bonnie's mother. I don't want to give away too much, but her character is based on an actual mythical deity. I borrowed her for this tale. In my mind this also explains Damon and Tyler's devotion to the young Bennett witch. Next chapter – Bonnie finally meets Eric. _

_I apologize for the delay in posting. I'm finishing up my Big Bang fic for an LJ challenge and that's a top priority. Another update for this one will come before the end of the week. Hope you enjoy. _

**_Friend of the Dead_**

_Ten years after he was first made vampire, Eric Northman found himself alone in Greece. Godric had thought it best that his young prodigy spend some time alone, learning what it meant to survive; overcoming the fear to live as an undead member of an enlightened society. Eric walked the streets once inhabited by gods and goddesses, trading daylight for the glorious light of the moon; romanced by the power granted to emperors by the gods of Olympus. He'd grown up, fed Norse mythology and tales of legend. His own father had been compared to Beowulf and Siegfried alike. They were only stories to the unbeliever, but Eric knew that just as wolves and vampires existed, the retellings of Zeus and Osiris were steeped in fact. He'd felt their presences, experienced their power and when his eyes fell upon the Egyptian beauty he knew that she too was the basis of a myth. _

_She held her head high, long black tresses pooled around her shoulders, and she walked as if she were gliding on air. He was drawn to her. He followed her through the night time market, intent on seducing, feeding, and compelling her to join him in the land of the undead. Eric noticed the woman's eyes, crystalline green orbs, accentuated by flecks of gold and reminiscent of the finely spun silk of the robes lining her frame. Her skin was kissed by the sun and his thirst threatened to overtake him. Eric's fangs descended and the beauty turned and spoke in voice meant only for him to hear._

"_No harm will come to me Viking or you will know Osiris this night."_

_His incisors retracted and he stepped closer. _

"_What are you?"_

_He asked, mesmerized that she looked right through him and uttered a threat that she would surely bring to pass. _

"_Just call me a friend of death." _

Eric had not dreamed of the green eyed goddess in years. He awakened, exiting his sleek black coffin; immediately aware of Pam's stirrings upstairs in the office. He pushed his slumber induced musings aside and journeyed to the main level of Fangtasia.

He strolled through the door to find a befuddled Pam, opening and slamming drawers, "Did I miss a call – visit from the queen – the presence of our resident Edward Cullen; Bill Compton."

"She's coming Eric?"

Eric shooed Pam away and fell into the chair behind his desk.

"Perfection…Ginger is beyond scattered this evening, Evetta, will have to cover her duties."

"Evetta left the day Bill poured concrete all over your perfectly sculpted ass; I'm talking about the child…the witch."

"The child lives…"

"The reincarnation met his end, the chosen one is in search of answers," Pam eased into Eric's personal space and pulled up the obituary on the monitor. "Robbery gone bad."

The words on the screen saddened Eric; Solomon had been a good man. A genuine human unprepared for the talent and power bestowed upon him.

"Pity he never embraced his gifts," Eric nudged Pam away. "I have nothing to tell her, she can come, it will be nice to taste a witch's blood again."

"How'd that work out for you the last time…naked in Bon Temps cemetery?"

"Leave me!" The bass in his voice vibrated the foundation of the building.

"Fine, you were warned."

Eric extended his long legs towards the desk and leaned back in his chair. It was obvious that the girl did not fully know what she was. Clearly, the curse of the Bennett line had been revealed, but had she discovered the reason why the dead were drawn to her? Did she know that the creatures of the moon were attracted not only to her beauty, but the power she held over them. She was responsible for the immortal, a companion to those blessed to live a second life beyond the cessation of their beating hearts. She was lady justice, the constant charged with writing the wrongs done. Water, weather, the wild birds of the air, all answered her commands. Her power was most prevalent when the moon was full, the night sky adorned with stars. And then there was the underworld, her family's kingdom desperately needed an heir.

Bonnie Bennett descended not only from _the_ line of Salem's most powerful witches; she was the daughter of a deity; born to Nebhet, Egyptian goddess, and friend of the dead.

_Eric had met Solomon shortly after he married Ebe- the name Nebhet had chosen for her modern life. The reluctant warlock was smitten with the goddess, unaware of what she was, but captivated by the light her eyes held. They'd stepped into the bar, long before it became the sideshow Fangtasia was today. _

"_Viking." _

_Immediately he recognized the voice and Eric allowed a rare smile to play at the corners of his mouth. "Friend."_

_The marriage had been doomed. At six foot six, Solomon reminded her of Auset, her consort, brother god, and friend. Bronze skin held her attention; soft brown eyes warmed her heart, and a power he would never allow his hands to wield humbled the divine being forcing her love to grow all the more. _

_Sol was the first son born to the Bennett line in fifty years, his coupling with Ebe was foretold long before Emily Bennett walked the Virginia hills. The life growing in the belly of the immortal goddess would be coveted by every supernatural being who knew of its existence._

_Eric noticed the sadness enveloped Ebe during their visit. _

"_Viking she will come to you one day when his mortality ends," Her eyes drifted to the man at the bar. "Help her – protect her – teach her."_

_He reached for her hand. "I vow to honor your request."_

The day had finally come.

Nebhet's daughter was close, his skin burned with the strength of her power so near.

Eric would uphold his promise to Nebhet and enjoy a welcome distraction from Sookie and her overbearing morals.


	4. The First Layer

_Okay, next round is up._

_Thank you so much for continuing to read and support this little project. Damon and Tyler will return in the next chapter. Things will start to pick up a little, but for now the witch finally makes it to Shreveport. _

**_The First Layer_**

Bonnie nibbled on the nails of her left hand as her right fought with the MMI Navigation system in Tyler's Audi R8 Spyder. She uttered a silent prayer that her boyfriend of eight months hadn't been too enraged when he woke earlier that day to find her gone and the keys to her three year old Jetta beside his head on the pillow. Her phone was buried at the bottom of the bag solely to avoid a conversation that would cause her to rethink her current mission, turn around, and rush back to his arms.

In all honesty, Bonnie had been surprised that she made it out of Virginia without drawing the attention of law enforcement. This car, cherry red precision, and European styling, was the only thing Tyler Lockwood professed to love more than her. As she gripped the steering wheel, shifted gears, and rocketed up to a hazardous 180 mph, Bonnie knew why.

The trip to the Bayou was one the witch had to make without the company of any of her supernatural protectors. Young Mr. Lockwood made it his life's purpose to protect Bonnie and keep her shielded from harm. He wasn't above lying to do that, and while she knew it was purely out of love, it pissed her off beyond comprehension. She wasn't anyone's porcelain doll. Overprotective behavior, coupled with infidelity, brought her relationship with Damon Salvatore to an end. Even he carried the misguided notion that she was some type of damsel in distress. The young woman had enough skill in her pinky finger to bring down a band of wolves or vamps, _okay_ possible exaggeration, but she was capable of walking the streets at night alone, without concern for making it home safely.

Once she crossed into the state of Louisiana, Bonnie's senses were on a heightened alert. Solomon Bennett had left one number for her to call. He bated his daughter with the promise for information about a mother that she recalled from old photos and bedtime stories. A woman Sheila Bennett refused to discuss, but each and every time her son's wife was mentioned, the elder Bennett's face held enough disdain to fill a lifetime of tales.

Bonnie doubted that her father knew about her grandmother's practice of witchcraft or his daughter's affinity for the gift. So the last thing she expected was a connection to a hell hole six states away ran by the Vampire Sheriff of Area Five, and why would anyone here know a damned thing about her mother. She exhaled, pressing the button to increase the volume pulsating from the speakers, and allowed the repetitive strum of the guitar's strings to calm her frazzled nerves. Each and every attempt she'd made in the preceding days to contact someone at the godforsaken bar had resulted in a disconnected call. Secrets were a way of the Bennett life and Bonnie wondered if it would ever end. She extended her foot pressed the gas and increased her speed.

In four years Bonnie had obtained a master knowledge of vampires, they were not simple folklore to fill the plot of five hundred page teen novels; they were real; undead versions of their former selves. Beings, with varying groups, exhibiting characteristics based on the original master's lineage. The Salvatore brothers were uncommon, almost friendly, non life-threatening, daywalkers. She didn't know who or what she would encounter when she reached the bar.

Sheila Bennett's journals and lecture notes covered every aspect of mythology, deities, creatures of the night, and the religions of old; things that the young woman never learned in the lecture halls of the university where she finished her Anthropology degree in less than three years. Still, there were gaps and holes that felt almost purposeful; even in her classroom curriculum. Bonnie knew for a fact that her grandmother and other tenured professors had studied much of the nation's, particularly the southeast's history regarding popular legends, dating back over three hundred years, and yet her Gram's grimoire, journals, or electronic files contained none of those studies. The young Bennett was positive Sheila had known about lycanthropy and vampirism. There was nothing that could be tied to the Lockwoods and very few details about the Salvatores. It just didn't make sense.

"Welcome to Shreveport." Bonnie whispered as she crossed into the town just after midnight. Every car that darted in and out of traffic for the past five miles was adorned with a familiar bumper sticker.

_Follow me to Fangtasia._

So she did.

* * *

The five inch Louboutins pinching her toes crunched against the gravel when Bonnie stepped from the car. She felt the penetrating stares of lustful men and women as she made her way to the door. Begrudgingly she waited for her turn with the bouncer; a strawberry blonde with an affinity for black leather and blood red lipstick. Bonnie was prepared to hand over her id and cash when the woman cooed, "Your money's no good here." Her fangs slowly descended and the witch responded in typical fashion. Eyes slanted and power focused she pointed her frustration in the vampire's direction. The woman went down slowly, clutching her head between her hands, "You are a vicious beauty." There was no retaliation for Bonnie's preemptive strike, the vamp returned to her post fully composed and stepped aside and allowed her assailant to enter the bar.

Bonnie had never seen anything like what was unfolding before her. Goth, she had some passing familiarity with, emo she'd dabbled in for two weeks, and scene, much to her father's dismay, the little Bennett pulled off for an entire year. _This_ was insanity, women openly bowing before a man sitting on a throne, pleading to be feed upon, and men begging to be turned. It was disgusting, even Damon wasn't that vain.

She locked eyes with the man whose affections they desired - perfectly chiseled features - sculpted arms fully visible thanks to a sleeveless black t-shirt - milky white skin - eyes filled with mischief that immediately brought another vampire to mind, and a wicked lascivious grin that did things to her body that had never been experienced in all her twenty – one years.

He crooked one long finger and beckoned for her to come. Instead Bonnie turned and threw an extra sway in her hips as she journeyed to the empty stool at the bar.

In the time it took for one drink to be placed before her, Bonnie shot down two over eager men, one extremely butch female, all while maintaining the blonde in her peripheral vision.

"Eric doesn't like being ignored."

The vamp bouncer from the door settled beside her, dismissing the attendant and any nosey bystanders before she continued.

"The name's Pam."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and leaned over the bar for the long necked bottle. She refilled her glass, swallowed her drink, and shifted her gaze to seat next to her.

"Do I look like I asked?"

"Definitely a Bennett with that ungrateful," Pam wiggled her fingers. "Bitchy – witchy attitude…" The woman licked her lips and waited for Bonnie's reaction.

The words stilled the witch's movements; this Pam knew who she was. Fear set in for a split second and then it was followed by an indescribable rage. Years had passed without answers. Too many deaths had occurred because of her family's belief that the only way to protect the ones you loved was through secrets. She was beyond angry.

"Look, you pale, tacky, undead _bitch_, the headache at the door was only a sample. I can and _will_ take your ass down."

A small smile crept across the vamp's lips, "Impressive, keep talking like that and I just might sneak a little taste of that rich blood running through your veins." Pam groaned, rubbing her head as a disappointing look replaced the space once filled by a smile, "Maybe later…for now…what can we do to help Solomon's baby girl?"

Bonnie eyes widened at the mention of her father's first name, "How…" The witch hesitated. "Did you know my dad?"

Pam traced a finger along the curve of Bonnie's jaw, "I never forget a face." She dropped her hand from the young woman's skin and sat back, "I can see him in the way you walk, the easy calm that filled you before you carelessly attacked me at the door." The noise and traffic in the bar dissipated as the crowd thinned. Bonnie stared intently at the vampire, waiting for her to finish, "You, little witch want to know about mommy."

She nodded, feeling the throne master's eyes burning through her skin.

Bonnie turned meeting his cold, calculated gaze. Despite her reservations, she stood, slowly walking to the elevated platform, where the ornately designed chair was positioned. She accepted the hand that was offered, "Hello Bonnie."

Everything around them froze. His hand was cooler than Damon's, smoother even, it felt like marble. She studied the way the long and elegant digits wrapped around hers. Compulsion wasn't an option; however charm would definitely do the trick.

"Who are you?"

"Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area Five," Seconds passed on like minutes as he recorded the details of her face. "Everything you need."


	5. Frenemies

_Today's my birthday, so I felt generous. You get an early update _

**_Frenemies_**

Tyler stretched his arms above his head and wiggled his toes. He waited for his muscles to catch up with his mind. Slowly he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, the noted scent of apples and vanilla hanging in the air. It was Bonnie's scent. How he found her, regardless of the form his body took. Wolf or man he knew how to follow the trail to find his Baby B.

Instinctively he reached for the space beside him, fully intent on lacing his fingers in silky brown hair, as he molded his body to the warmth of her skin. Instead he met cold sheets and coarse carpet. He noticed the keys on the pillow and his heart immediately sank. She was gone. The conversation from the night before filled his ears. At the time he didn't think she was serious about the search for her mother. He should have known by now that she was a woman of her word. Tyler rushed for the garage and found only Bonnie's car.

The wall buckled under his fist, "Fuck!" He yelled out of frustration more than anger. Not only was his prized possession gone, but his heart had followed Bonnie on her journey. He was scared, worried that maybe she'd chosen another companion for her road trip.

The doorbell rang and he stalked towards the door, forgetting his current state of undress. On the other side he met the disapproving eyes of one Damon Salvatore. Relief and irritation rolled over him.

The vampire's eyes traveled over Tyler's frame and a twisted grin played on his lips, "Cute, don't worry when you hit puberty, it'll grow. Oh wait…you're what twenty – one, twenty – two, sorry you're stuck with that toddler dick for life."

There was no thought necessary, Tyler Lockwood slammed the door. He returned to the makeshift bed, pulled his jeans from the pile of clothes, and covered his bare skin. When he turned he was face to face with his nemesis.

"That was kind of rude, what would the missus say?" Damon craned his neck looking up the stairs before his eyes returned to the scene where Tyler and Bonnie had made love hours before. He feigned sickness, clutching his stomach, and pretending to hurl.

"It's too early for your shit Salvatore."

Tyler made his way to the kitchen, searching for coffee, alcohol, anything that could take away the sting of the impending conversation.

Close on his heels, the vampire continued, "Good because my shit is not for you." Damon looked around, again, "Where's _my_ little witch."

Animal instinct and predatory nature kicked in.

Tyler snapped.

His hands circled the vampire's throat as he lifted Damon off the ground and slammed him into the wall, "The next full moon, I promise to rip your throat out, and watch your miserable ass finally die."

Damon humored him, pretending to struggle against his grasp before his eyes darkened, fangs descended, and the veins surrounding his eyes became more pronounced, "I would snap your neck before you could even try."

Tyler dropped the vamp and tugged at the disheveled mass of hair on top of his head, "She's gone."

A range of emotions played out on his natural enemies face. For once Tyler knew in spite of Damon's dramatics that the vampire really did care about Bonnie, maybe as much if not more than he did.

"Lockwood, you smell like a dog, and I look like a god." Then the old Damon resurfaced, and any amicable thoughts went straight to hell, "I'm willing to look past that and work with you. Take a fucking shower and meet me at the manor in an hour."

Damon breezed past Tyler and out the front door.

An hour later the young Lockwood sat in an ancient leather chair in the Salvatore boarding house study. Damon's attentions were focused on the massive wall of books before him. He climbed on a step ladder to reach the higher shelves. He pulled off a few stacks of books and returned to the table where Tyler was seated.

"What do you know about Emily Bennett?"

Tyler knew only what Bonnie had shared. Tiny pieces of a jigsaw puzzle he'd put together from conversations with Stefan, Damon, and Elena as they strategized against Katherine. She was a witch; one of the most powerful in the Bennett line. She was also the reason these bloodsuckers could see the light of day.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Enough."

Damon laughed, "Really…you don't even know _enough_ to form a coherent thought." Tyler's brows lifted in response to Damon's insult, "Yes, Stefan isn't the only Salvatore who knows how to use fancy words in a complete sentence." The vampire opened one of the larger books he'd thrown in the middle of the table. It was a dusty, wine – colored leather, with gold embossed lettering. "This was one of my father's journals." He handed the book over and Tyler flipped through the pages as the vampire spoke, "There was a prophecy, foretelling, whatever the hell you want to call it, about a witch, more powerful than any to come before or after her. She would hold the power of both heaven and hell in her hands."

"What is this, Harriett Potter of Mystic Falls? Stop with all the cloak and dagger bullshit Damon."

"Dog boy, Emily charged me with watching her line, Bonnie is that witch." He snatched the book from Tyler's hands and turned a few more pages, "Here, read. You _can_ read?"

His eyes scanned the words, struggling to comprehend what was written on the paper before him.

"Mystic Falls is different, protected by the charms and barriers placed around it by all the Bennetts that have come before Bonnie. Solomon refused, recanted his commitment to the gift shortly after the birth of his daughter. Forbid his mother, her Grams, from training Bonnie." Damon walked to the bar and fixed a drink, "Thank you for being hardheaded Sheila." He swallowed the glass in one gulp and opted to return to the table with the bottle in hand. "Outside of this town, there's a war. Battle lines drawn, Kings and Queens fighting for ultimate control; stopping at nothing, even stringing your kind out on our blood for the sole purpose of maintaining power."

"What does that have to do with Bonnie?"

Damon exhaled, loudly, "Keep up. The Bennett barrier, keeps that foolishness out of the Falls. Bonnie, possesses the ability to create the same hedge of protection for most of the Eastern hemisphere maybe more. She's a threat – justice dealer – regulator." Damon took a swig from the bottle, "I don't know why…what changed with _her_…" The vampire hesitated, "The blood flowing through her veins is different. I've tasted Bennetts, there's _something_ else there."

Tyler's left leg shook, "Is she in danger?"

Damon was quiet, his voice steady when he spoke, "Yes."

He slid his phone open and dialed her number for the twentieth time that day; again, nothing but voicemail. He stared at Damon looking for direction.

"Where was she headed?"

Irritated and frightened, Tyler snapped,"I have no idea."

Damon cut his eyes in Tyler's direction, "Must I do everything." He opened his laptop, logged on and punched a few keys. In seconds he had Bonnie's most recent calls pulled up on the screen. "She's dialed the same number five times in the past hour." He pushed the computer over to Tyler, "Do you recognize it?"

"No."

"What the hell do you know Lockwood?" Damon snatched the equipment from Tyler's grip and dialed the number.

"Fangtasia, this is Ginger."

He slammed his phone closed, returning his attention to the keyboard of the laptop, and accessed Google to search the name, "Shreveport."

Tyler jumped from his set and ran for the door. Damon was waiting there, "No, my find, I go." He vision blurred and he knew soon he would give in to his rage. "Okay, you can go, on one condition, we're not driving that car." The vampire pointed in the direction of Bonnie's Jetta.

"Agreed."

The two men jumped into Damon's Range Rover and headed south, after two hours filled with packing and disagreements. The vampire was nervous. Never in the four years that he had known Damon Salvatore, had Tyler seen anything throw the vampire off his game. Not even when Bonnie left him, he never doubted that she would return. For the first time he saw fear and uncertainty. There was something else Damon wasn't sharing with Tyler. He knew more about the supernatural divide than he was willing to share.

Damon navigated the road with ease, refusing to turn over the wheel to his new travel buddy. He drove through the night as Tyler slept. When Tyler opened his eyes they were in the parking lot of a restaurant twenty or thirty miles from Shreveport. He tumbled from the SUV, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun.

"You need to eat. We'll find a hotel that doesn't have fleas…see I can be kind…then hit Fangtasia tonight."

It was the first night in three months that Tyler had slept without Bonnie. His back ached. His body yearned for her. He grumbled as he snatched the door open, "What the hell is a Merlotte's?" He muttered as he crossed the threshold.

His nose picked up the distinct scent of another supernatural being, it wasn't vamp or wolf, but it was damn close.

"Can I help ya?" A shaggy haired man asked from behind the bar with a wary smile.

"Coffee…black." He punched Damon in the shoulder.

A wicked grin spread across the vampire's face as he twirled the ring on his finger, "True Blood, O Negative…98.6, please." He slid into a booth by the door, and Tyler swore he heard everyone in the building start on a round of Hail Mary.


	6. Familiarity

**_Familiarity_**

The strangest feeling of familiarity washed over Bonnie as she stood face to chest with Eric Northman. He was a full foot taller, pale blues eyes accentuating a face that reflected hostility in an attempt to hide the humanity bubbling below the surface. Finally she remembered to breathe, stepping back from the vampire's orbit that threatened to pull her in.

"How do you know me?"

"I'll answer your questions, but first, sit…share a drink with me."

Eric snapped his fingers and his employees moved to action, forcing patrons from a booth hidden in the shadows. He urged her to sit and she did, her hands shook as her fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass of wine. Slowly she sipped the bitter liquid, taking a moment to organize the questions that rushed to the forefront of her mind by the second.

Bonnie noticed the sheriff and the very obvious problem he had with staring. His perusal started at the crown of her head, moved to her eyes, nose, chin, and all back again.

Occasionally a, "fascinating," or "beautiful," would slip from his lips during his survey.

Nervous tension flowed through Bonnie and before she could ask, the vampire from the door appeared at the table to refill her glass. Eric leveled a glare in the woman's direction and she stalked away, prepared to have her temper tantrum elsewhere.

Slowly differences between this vampire and Damon became obvious. He was paler; there was no hint of the sun's rays on his skin. She could feel the dark energy that radiated off his body and she was uncertain if it could be attributed to age or his lineage. Eric Northman was far older than Stefan or Damon Salvatore.

Eric moved to Bonnie's side of the booth, "Eternity is far too long to spend without the pleasure of your company," his hand caressed her cheek, "Why has young Salvatore not turned you?" The vampire's nose followed suit, and brushed her cheek before it traveled along the curve of her jaw and inhaled the scent of neck. His breath was warmer than she expected, a deep contrast to the coolness of the skin brushing against hers. "Your scent is magnificent. I've never experienced anything like it." He blessed the spot where her pulse beat rapidly in excitement with the presence of his lips.

Bonnie pulled back, refusing to give in to lust, and his enchantments. She focused her power in the direction of his chest. He flicked the flame that started to burn.

"That tickled." He reached for her again. "You smell like them. The lover of blood – child of the moon, do they love you or the power you hold over them."

Her tone was steady, low, and even, "How do you know me?"

She read the solemn look on his face as he settled back in the booth, his chin poised on the tips of his fingers.

"Solomon was my friend." He paused, "Your mother, the one who got away." He smiled with the memory of the family she had lost.

Bonnie wanted to cry. She was close, the answers she needed were in the memories of the man before her. She failed to have an opportunity to probe his mind further.

Eric's attention was accosted by the newest visitor to enter Fangtasia. Bonnie stared at the man but she couldn't recall any of his attributes; height, weight, skin tone, or length of hair.

"We leave now."

The vampire lifted her from the booth and she followed him without question. Their path was obstructed by the strange man who seconds before stood at the entrance.

"Good evening Eric, who is this young beauty?"

Her view was blocked as Eric positioned his body between the man and Bonnie.

"An inconsequential snack, she is none of your concern Seth."

"I disagree Viking; this one reeks of the mystical arts and Nebhet's blood."

Eric's body began to tremble, his resolve dissipated and soon Bonnie found herself eye to eye with the man the vampire referred to as Seth. For the second time that evening she found herself trapped by feelings of intimate knowledge of someone she had not previously met. She was fearful of the man but unwilling to make her emotional state visible to the potentially life - threatening individual.

Her protector chimed in again.

"Any action you take here will reveal your presence to your enemies. Play your hand wisely."

Seth reached for Bonnie and recoiled immediately as the flesh that covered his fingers began to melt under the weight of the spell that she silently chanted.

"Yes you are the daughter of my beloved Nebhet and her human consort; soon I'll have my revenge and the power your mother transferred to your hands."

**5**_4321_

Bonnie rode in silence.

What did Seth mean? She screamed the question in her head before it left her lips.

"What did Seth mean?"

Eric shifted gears and ignored her inquiry. He pulled into the garage below his home, hopped out, and opened her door so she could exit the vehicle.

"Did you hear me?"

Bonnie pushed further.

Eric's hand circled her wrist, "Not now."

The sound from Tyler's engine filled the garage and Pam stepped from the driver's side of the car. Maker relayed orders to his child in a language Bonnie could not comprehend. The female vampire disappeared and Eric turned his attention back to the woman whose hand he still held.

"Bonnie, you're not only a witch from Salem's line. Your mother was an Egyptian goddess. You're a demi – goddess.

She sat in the middle of the bed confined to a state of shock.

"I met your mother early into my life as a Vampire, even upon our first meeting I could feel her magic, the glory that lived just below the surface of her skin. We were friends. I've crossed paths with her many a time over the course of our lifetimes. She loved your father. She was happy about what your birth would mean, but she knew remaining a part of your life would result in your death."

Eric walked to the window and Bonnie took the opportunity to ask the one question that needed to be answered.

"Is she alive?"

"Not in a way you can comprehend. Her presence still lingers between dimensions. Her spirit walks with you, I can see it now. I saw it when your gift manifested itself against Seth."

Bonnie swallowed as she recalled conversations with her Grams and words housed in the texts she'd studied over the years. Nebhet, Nephtys, she was familiar with the goddess' tale. Now she wondered if Damon's affections were true and how much meaning she could place behind Tyler's proclamations.

"The loves of your life weigh heavily on your mind."

She did not like the fact that this strange vampire could seemingly read her innermost thoughts.

"Yes you are that transparent."

**5**_4321_

_Your scent is magnificent. _

Eric's words looped over an over again in her dreams.

It frightened Bonnie; the way her body sung with one touch of his hand. The goose bumps that remained on her skin even after she'd reconciled reality with her subconscious.

Betrayal and its pain, permanently tattooed itself into your soul. She would not _ever_ hurt another, the way Damon had destroyed her. She opened her eyes and stared at the ornate ceiling above her. Gold and purple alternated in an elaborate display of roses and ribbons. It reminded Bonnie of Eric; complicated in its beauty. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and pulled the sheets up to her neck.

Egyptian cotton, fine, hand - crafted, linens caressed her skin like a lover. She was alone in the massive king sized bed. A state she hadn't experienced since she consummated her relationship with Tyler Lockwood. They had talked about moving in together. There had been some discussion about the possibility of marriage in the future, but mostly he liked to hold her, and tumble towards sleep together. There were dreams that threatened the solace they found in one another's arms. Nights she would awake with Damon's name on her lips, or visions filled with death and a black magic she could never comprehend.

Tyler's response often varied. At times his grip would tighten, or he would distance himself from her out of fear of a violent reaction at the mention of his enemy's name. Here, Bonnie was safe and for the first time in months, far removed from the distractions that made her life difficult.

The sun's heat began to creep through the curtains edging its way across her face. She didn't know exactly when Eric and Pam went to ground. She'd spent years with Damon, Stefan, and Caroline. They acted as any normal living and breathing beings thanks to the lapis lazuli stones blessed by the Bennetts. Instead, when dawn broke on the horizon, Eric, Pam, and any other vamps went underground or faced a case of the bleeds_._ Damon attempted to explain it to her once, comparing the varying covens of vampires to ethnicities and familial lines. Now she understood.

Eric had stood ceremoniously during their early morning conversation before he excused himself. He bowed gracefully at the waist, took her hand, and kissed it affectionately.

_"More answers will come tomorrow sweet beauty." _

Bonnie Bennett had several bad habits.

She constantly bit her nails – drank orange juice directly from the carton – and chose the most dangerous men to bed. Judging by the painless feel of her muscles, she hadn't indulged in one of those habits in the last twenty – four hours. Eric Northman proved to be just as endearing as he was gorgeous. He reminded her too much of Damon; the villain hidden behind beautiful eyes and a sugary sweet smile.

"Morning Bonnie."

A bubbly blonde carrying a tray of junk food, busted through the bedroom door. She remembered the mention of an employee that would come by and check on her during daylight hours.

_"By no means are you to venture into Bon Temps. I will come to you as soon as the sun sets. Remain inside." _

Those had been his words and for some reason she promised to listen. She shifted the plates around on the tray. A chocolate and banana sandwich, Cheetos, and a bowl of grapes was the meal of champions delivered to her door.

"Thank you."

Even Tyler prepared a better breakfast than what currently occupied her lap. Bonnie reached for the phone. She pressed the button and watched the screen light up. A series of alerts danced across her screen; new text messages, voice mails, and emails. Most were from Tyler, a few from Elena, and one very ominous greeting from Damon Salvatore.

_Bon Temps is lovely this time of year. _

He never took no for an answer and if Salvatore was this close, Lockwood wasn't too far behind.

The loves of her life, that's how Eric had referred to them. His fingers rubbed the small bumps that had formed upon scarring at the base of her neck. And now so did the tips of her fingers.

She dialed Tyler's cell.

"Morning sunshine."

Damon Salvatore really was unbearable.

Bonnie bit the bait he dangled, "Why are you with Tyler?"

She could hear music, waitresses calling orders, and conversations in the background.

"Babe, I've never really been a dog lover, but he's growing on me. I think we should keep him."

Bonnie pulled at the t-shirt covering her body.

Tyler was with Damon.

Damon was with Tyler.

Somewhere Damon was walking in the sunlight and scaring the locals with his Captain Obvious, _Look, I'm a Vampire_ show.

"Go home Damon."

"When I've got your sweet ass in the seat next to me, I will."

"I hate you."

"I love you too. See you soon…real soon Mrs. Salvatore."

Damon disconnected the call and Bonnie screamed.


	7. Internal Reflections

_Warning, this chapter is a little more reflective - hence the title. Extremely character centric. It may provide a few more answers to questions you have. The story is about to take a turn. Both anti-heroes make their way into the same chapter and the story is by no means over. There will be more BonniexEric interaction and don't forget about our Virginia based werewolf. Still Damon Salvatore has a way of stealing the show especially when it comes to his favorite witch. _

_Thank you for reading and I'm glad you're enjoying this little fic. _

**_Internal Reflections_**

Damon didn't sleep. He hadn't since his change so many years before. Often he feigned tiredness to sneak in an afternoon nap with Bonnie. He loved to watch her as she battled in her sleep before she drifted into a peaceful slumber and molded her body to his. Her head buried in his chest, soft curls, fanned out on his skin and their pillows. It was then and only then that he didn't doubt his ability to protect her and maintain his vow of fidelity.

He missed her now more than ever.

Their brief conversation earlier in the day had only increased his need for her. He knew she was close. He could feel her. She was safe, but frustrated, worried even about what her time in Louisiana held. The faces of two men constantly present in her thoughts and dreams. One he knew, the other, sent trimmers of fear down to his very core; a feeling Bonnie also shared.

Damon and Bonnie had exchanged blood on several occasions; sometimes out of the necessity to preserve her life, other times as an offer on her behalf to her undead lover, and then there were the instances where the swap was a representation of who and what they would always be to one another.

Ancients perpetuated the notion that blood bonds served as another weapon in a vampire's arsenal; especially if you found yourself linked to a blessed human. The eldest Salvatore hadn't placed much weight in the practice until his first encounter with Emily and the tales she spun for his ears.

Tyler shifted in the double bed on the other side of the room. The sound emitted from the man's mouth made Damon's skin crawl. The dog snored; loud, deep, and repetitive breaths that rattled in the back of his throat and surely sprayed the pillow where Tyler's head lay. He didn't know how Bonnie managed to get any sleep at night; then again she hadn't been big on using the bed as a place of rest. That was something Damon learned during the years spent with the witch. Hell, that's what lazy days and weekends were for, to catch up on the sleep lost due to the countless hours of love making they shared from sun down to sun up.

Bonnie was a virgin when they finally admitted their true feelings. He had been her first, in every way that mattered. Quickly, Damon's little witch learned the ends and outs of how to please him. He was satisfied and fully sated from all of their encounters. Now, Tyler benefited from the years Damon labored to coax the petite beauty out of her shell.

Private sessions where he instructed her how to form her pout into the perfect 'o' shape before he slipped past the wet warmth of her lips. He'd been the attentive and reassuring lover, pausing to record her reactions when his mouth encased a nipple, or his fingers dipped into her heat. He taught her not to hold back; to give him every ounce of her being; mind, body, and spirit. And once their bond was in place, he'd known that she put every bit of her love, desire, and need in each act that transpired between them.

Bonnie's appetite was insatiable when it came to her sexual desires. He blamed the growing power within her, but somehow he knew that even average, everyday human Bonnie Bennett would have hands down earned the title of his favorite freak.

Her gift was a bonus. He felt almost alive when they were together. His heart would beat. His skin would elevate from his standard ice cold temperature to a scorching 98.6, and for the briefest of moments he could see himself through Bonnie's mind's eye. She loved, irrevocably, without apology. That frightened him, more than the peril her life had faced, fighting Katherine, or any of the freaks of the week that graced Mystic Falls' borders.

Ultimately, his betrayal and infidelities were not about physical needs. The truth was rooted in his personal demons and fears. He couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her. And that's how they ended up here.

His Bonnie, the woman who led him to the humanity he'd buried under the surface so many years before, committed to the idiot in the bed next to him. He knew Tyler Lockwood adored her, possibly felt deep affection for _his_ witch, and in the werewolf's mind loved Bonnie Bennett.

It still couldn't compare; especially knowing the history that surrounded Ms. Bennett's line. He didn't trust the validity of Lockwood's feelings; mystical charm was almost as powerful as true love. Plus, some things were meant to be and Damon and Bonnie were one of those things.

Yes, he'd broken a vow he made, by sharing his body with Elena. The explanation was unclear and that did nothing to help his case. An argument between Stefan and his wife, found the brown – eyed girl with Katherine's face on his doorstep, and a bottle of wine one too many. He'd known as soon as their lips brushed what it would do to his relationship with Bonnie. He sensed the witch's presence outside of his door as his hips lifted off the bed and he buried his manhood inside of the unattainable prize straddling his lap.

"Sooner or later…I always knew."

That had been all Bonnie said. She walked out the door and never looked back. She didn't return to gather her things, or set him on fire. That's what hurt Damon the most, no fight, no fury; just a concession of the failed attempt to make him the man she needed. The very thing he tried to avoid, Damon brought to fruition. Yet when he sought her out at her father's home and cradled her in his arms, he could feel the unconditional love that thrived just for him.

Bonnie forgave him but she never forgot.

She re-established the tattered threads of her friendship with Elena and moved on. Still, when their fingers brushed in passing, images of the past and future filled his head. He'd been bombarded by them days earlier, as he stood face to face with her before she decided to run away to Louisiana. He heard it in her voice when he answered her call that morning.

Bonnie was stubborn and now she decided to play it safe by welcoming a man into her heart that would never hurt her the way he had.

Tyler shifted again and Damon resisted the urge to strangle him as he slept when he heard Bonnie's name on his lips. The sun would set within the hour, and thanks to the powder he'd dropped in his travel buddy's drink back at the restaurant, it would damn near be dawn before the mongrel awakened.

This was something he had to do alone.

Area 5 was no place for a foolish, lovesick werewolf. Tyler would get himself killed and Bonnie would blame his demise on Damon. Eric Northman did little to curb the trouble in his territory, he actually encouraged it. Damon had met the older vamp once or twice. Louisiana was a favorite haunt of Bree's during the time they spent together in the nineties. Those meetings left a bad taste in the younger vamp's mouth. Call it the Eastern and Western European conflict, he wanted Eric no where near Bonnie.

Not now – not ever.

Emily's warnings had been clear. He'd committed them to memory. Katherine's consort had known that one day, Damon would fall for someone in her line, rediscover who he was destined to become, and potentially lose his life to save her; that someone would be neither witch nor goddess, but stuck somewhere in between. He'd be drawn to her energy, captivated by her power, but his love would be proven to be pure.

Damon grabbed the keys and walked out the door. The sky was full of red, orange, and purple as the sun disappeared from the horizon. The drive to Shreveport was uneventful. Too quiet and more time than he needed on his hands, plagued by thoughts surrounding all the mistakes he'd made. Every song reminded him of her.

There was a chill in the air. Darkness gathered and the crescent shape of the moon was clearly visible in the night sky. Damon could smell Bonnie when he stepped from the car and crossed the parking lot. She wasn't there yet, but she was close.

An old acquaintance, watched him as he approached the door.

"Well, hello there Mr. Sexy and Divine Damon Salvatore."

He despised the sound of the vamp's voice.

"What? I only slept with her once. Are you going to hold it against me for eternity?"

Damon rolled his eyes, "Fuck off Pam, I didn't like you before I found your head buried between Bree's thighs."

"Good," Pam purred. "The feeling's mutual, now how about _you_ fuck off."

He didn't consider the consequences when his hands wrapped around her throat and his body pushed her against the plush leather door. He felt the veins rise to prominence around his eyes. He delighted in the forceful pressure with which his fangs sprung from his gums. "Where's your master."

Pam countered his display elegantly. Her fangs descended gracefully and she cooed, "Protecting your precious witch."

His grip tightened with the reveal and he seriously considered sending his victim to the final death. He had her by fifty years. He was stronger, wiser, and possessed more skill in his pinky finger than she housed in her curvaceous body. Damon felt the familiar prickle at his temple and the scorching heat of the flames that coated his skin before he made his final decision.

"Let her go Damon, I'm here…I'm safe… just let her go."

The voice was soothing and he listened.

Damon released Pam and slowly turned to face the woman that brought him back from the edge of disaster. He closed the gap between them in two steps. His shirt was wet with tears in seconds.

"I told you to go home." Bonnie mumbled into the shoulder of his trademark leather jacket.


	8. Coup D'etat

_A day late and a dollar short...new update finally here...life isn't cooperating...too much to do and too little time to get things done..._

_Thanks to everyone giving this crossover a try, your reviews, alerts, and faves mean a lot to me. I hope you continue to enjoy this journey. A few more twists and turns on the way. _

_Much love - Ki aka 'Scribe'_

**_Coup D'état_**

Damon Salvatore's reunion with his witch was short – lived.

He'd only managed to brush his lips across her forehead, and inhale her scent for a split second before the stronger and more sinister Louisiana based vamp ended their impromptu moment of affection. There was little that Eric Northman tolerated, abuse of his child, was at the top of that list. Quickly, he ripped the younger vamp from Bonnie's embrace and tossed him across the parking lot. His back stung as he skirted across pavement and gravel. He flinched when his attacker pounced and landed on top of the eldest Salvatore like a predator would his prey. Eric's fangs were bared and final death was the only potential outcome.

"Ungrateful – sniveling – child…you dare to disrespect my authority in my own territory."

The Viking's stone cold grasp tightened around Damon's neck. It would be effortless for the man to end his life. One little snap, no overexertion of energy, and Damon Salvatore would cease to be. He was not ready to meet his end. No where near resigned to separating himself from Bonnie or any universe where she existed.

Damon felt a shift in the atmosphere. The temperature in the air surrounding the two dueling vampires increased and it became hard to see. Smoke encased them and he could hear the beautiful melodic voice of the woman he adored in his head. His body strengthened, quiet instructions on how to overcome his adversary were whispered into his ears and soon he was on his feet, eye to eye with Eric, daring the man to complete his impotent threat.

A small smile curved the sheriff's lips as he released his hold on Damon and turned to face the spot where Bonnie stood, shaking, sweating, and eyes glazed over from excess usage of power, "Good, you're almost ready little one."

He took a few steps towards her, towering over the young woman; he brushed the sweaty strands from her face. She was unsteady on her feet, but the man's arm quickly wrapped around her, supporting her as she stood. Jealousy bloomed around Damon's heart when Bonnie's head rolled forward and rested on Eric's chest. His ears perked up, struggling to understand the ancient language spoken between maker and child. Pam scooped the witch up and in a flash disappeared behind the bar's padded doors.

He expected rebuke, but instead he received uncharacteristic amity from his occasional acquaintance.

"What took you so fucking long?"

No further words were exchanged as Damon followed Eric into the back entrance of Fangtasia and down the hall to his small office. He turned his nose up to the bottle of True Blood offered by the bar's owner.

"I can have a dancer tap a vein just for you, dear Salvatore."

Mischief lit Eric's eyes, he knew Damon's answer but the vamp felt compelled to clear the air.

"Bonnie would kill me if I drank from one of your well – trained blow up dolls."

He cracked the seal on the bottle and took a long swig of the synthetic liquid.

"Emily – Aisha – Poppy – Bree…you have quite a thing for witches, don't you?"

Damon rolled his eyes and took another drink, dead set on ignoring Eric's indirect question; he caved, and fell right into the older vampire's trap.

"There was no _thing_ with Emily, Aisha…mmmmm…there's a lovely memory…Poppy that bitch was almost as insane as her best friend Pam…Bree a means to an end."

"I presume we are discussing, the release of your precious Katherine from her dark and dank prison."

Damon snarled.

Eric laughed, "I told you more than once, you were a delusional blood starved vamp with no idea of his lovely lady's end game. She had you by the balls for one hundred and forty – five years."

Damon sighed, placing his feet on Eric's desk, only to remove them quickly after the death glare leveled in his direction. "I liked you better with long hair and when you were trying to kill me and not imparting some of your ancient, decrepit wisdom. You're boring me Northman."

He drank and avoided eye contact with the vampire who sat relaxed and reclined in the leather high back chair. He'd known Eric Northman for over fifty years. They'd met shortly after Kennedy's assassination in 1963; both men frozen by the true basest nature of mankind and the revelation that those who still lived and breathed were the most vicious monsters on the face of the earth.

"Why are you here Salvatore?"

He studied Eric for a moment, unsure if it was a trick question designed to throw him off, "Do you really have to ask?"

There was something in the sheriff's movements it was reminiscent of the one time he'd sat in Solomon Bennett's presence. The man was protective of this near stranger, almost like a father would be to a daughter. He'd never seen Eric behave this way with anyone other than Pam. It was refreshing and disheartening in the same breadth.

"I made a promise to her mother long before she was born, I will have your heart before I see Ebe's only child hurt."

His tone was bathed in sincerity and fear settled in the empty hallows where the marrow of Damon's bones was once held. He responded accordingly, "To see any harm befall Bonnie would destroy me."

This time Damon sat, scrutinized, studied like a rat in a cage.

"Funny I almost believe you, but there's the whole betrayal with your maker's doppelganger. Does she still hold power over you from the grave?"

Frustration rocked him and he was transported back to never ending arguments with the witch and the supe who now shared her bed.

"It was a mistake – a momentary indiscretion that has pained me as much as it has Bonnie. I'm here, not to make some grand attempt to win her back. As much as I hate to say this, should she decide to stay with the dog after all of this is over, I will respect her wishes, but I will do what it takes to guarantee her the answers she seeks. I followed her because the thought of Bonnie in harm's way, destroys me. I don't love Katherine anymore. The lust I felt for Elena is a bitter after taste in my mouth." Damon pounded his chest, "The phantom beats of this heart belong to one woman."

Eric stiffened, "You know the legends, Damon. Ebe, was no mere goddess, she straddled the fence between life and death…earth and the underworld. That side of Bonnie is growing and darkness is seeking her. Seth has appeared, sniffing out the scent of her power and depth of her craft. It's only a matter of time before more gods, entities, and oppressive natures pay her a visit. You can't even keep your dick in your pants long enough to maintain a vow of monogamy, I'm supposed to trust her protection to you and a wolf who doesn't understand his gift."

"Trust that I love her Eric - I will sacrifice my immortality for her life to continue."

Somewhat satisfied by Damon's response, Eric continued, "Bonnie does not know the full story _yet_, do you want to tell her?"

He would have to come clean. He'd known all along about the mother she longed for, the secrets hidden in her blood.

"Yes."

There was not much left to be discussed. The two vampires caught up on politics, history, and the latest coup d'états. He was so far removed from the true nature of his kind, spoiled by the semblance of peace created by Bonnie's ancestors. He searched the link between them listening for the steady beat of her heart. She was overwhelmed by the spell it took to grant him a momentary advantage over the thousand year old vamp. Most of her tricks didn't work on vampires over three hundred years old. He worried about Seth and the remaining details of the prophecy. Even with her mother's portion of power, he didn't know if Bonnie would be strong enough to withstand the trial that would test her in the days to come.

Damon met Eric's pensive gaze and he struggled to read the mixture of signals radiating from the ancient man. On one hand he sensed that his protectiveness of Bonnie was tied to the kinship he felt with Ebe and the unfulfilled desire for a child of his own to shield and adore. Then there were those clever and inappropriate comments about her beauty and natural appeal. He worried about the Viking's influence and chance that with the right words, his seduction of Bonnie was imminent. One competitor was enough. Truth be told, no one stood a chance against Eric Northman, what Eric wanted he got.


	9. Wicked Alliance

_I know..._

_I'm sorry, between real life and other commitments, this baby fell by the wayside. I'm back and really...really...REALLY...excited about where the next few updates will take us on this journey. Things are about to get deep and dark. Again, I apologize, and I hope you enjoy the update. Another coming soon... _

**_Wicked Alliance_**

Tyler woke from his dream fully expecting to roll over and scoop Bonnie into his arms. The last forty – eight hours had not been a fabricated nightmare. Fueled by the cryptic musings of a dead man, she'd left, hoping to find the mother who'd walked out on her years before. He didn't begrudge her the answers she needed. At one time he'd been in the same position, troubled by family secrets, and the lack of a straight answer. The only difference, Tyler had his uncle Mason to fill in the blanks. Until Bonnie found that letter and made a call, she had no one.

Tyler's eyes searched the room as sunlight filtered through the blinds. Damon's bed was completely made. He held off on the expletive fighting for release. Vampires didn't sleep. Maybe the arrogant bastard had gone hunting for a distraction the night before and never came back to the room. It was plausible, but it didn't explain the massive headache the werewolf was nursing, like someone had dropped an entire bottle of Ruffies in his drink. His hand shot to the table beside the bed, there was no sign of his cell phone or the car keys. Tyler snatched the lamp from the wall and threw it across the room.

"Fuck you Damon Salvatore."

He stood and immediately tumbled to the ground. His limbs were weak and heavy, feeling almost like lead as he struggled to regain his balance. The hair on the back of his neck and forearms stood on end and he knew he wasn't alone. He could feel the sweat bead under his skin as he searched the room for the foreign presence.

A shimmer of light materialized before him, coiling and turning until the image of a man was visible.

"Good morning Mr. Lockwood."

His brogue was heavy; a slight lisp also burdened his tongue.

"Who are you?"

Pain resonated down his spine and to the back of his legs, more than anything Bonnie had ever delivered during one of their sexually charged arguments.

"I ask the questions my four legged friend, you simply respond and obey accordingly."

The discomfort was replaced by a new uneasiness as the man invaded his personal space, caressing his chin, and stroking his bare arm. Before he could completely form the thought to attack Tyler found him self crumpled on the floor and whimpering like his hidden inner beast.

The man knelt beside his body, "Is that any way to treat your guest." Tyler shivered when his finger connected with his cheek, "What would Bonnie think?"

He was frozen, unable to respond to the implied threat in the man's voice.

"Excuse me, I forgot my manners, the name is Seth, just Seth that is all you need to know."

He recorded the shock of red hair and the sun stained skin. His eyes were a golden brown and he carried himself like someone who was much older than the age he appeared. He reminded Tyler of the now deceased, Solomon Bennett.

Tyler watched as the man sniffed the air.

"Where is the corpse?"

It took a moment for the question to register.

"Damon's not here."

The man allowed the knowledge to settle, "_Damon_." He practiced repeating the vampire's name in the same manner Tyler had spoken it. "Is he after the witch's heart?"

Despite his intent to play it cool, Tyler could not hide his demeanor as he filled with disgust at the mere thought of Bonnie with Damon.

The man was touching him again, studying his features, choosing his next words carefully, "If you do me a favor Tyler, I can help you be rid of Damon, forever."

The idea intrigued him.

A lifetime with Bonnie, marriage, children, and the family they both deserved without Damon's constant interruptions and guilt filled eyes. He was the one who messed up and lost out on the opportunity for a future with the woman they both loved. Tyler could give her life; Damon would only bring her death. She would have to die to share forever with the vampire.

"That's right Tyler; he would have to turn her to keep her."

His heart rate increased as the Seth continued.

"Death in any form is painful. He would drain every last drop of her sweet blood and then force her to drink the bitter bile in his veins. She would feel her body as it released its essence. Each second birthed in an unbearable and indescribable pain. Her soul condemned to hell. Bonnie doesn't deserve that."

He was sold.

"What do you need from me?"

"An heir to my throne," Tyler's eyes stretched as he listened to the visitor's words, "Not just any child, one sired by a witch - goddess. I need Bonnie to bear my son and I can only do that through you."

Regaining his faculties, Tyler scrambled to his feet, and rushed to the door. He was met by the firm grip of his guest.

"What are you?" He choked out as the Seth's hand tightened around his throat. His vision clouded and the red hair looked like flames burning against the man's bronze skin.

"The devil – no one ever told you about."

He continued to struggle, fear and determination fueling his fight. This _thing_ – this _devil_ would not go near Bonnie. Unfortunately Tyler had forgotten his thoughts were not his own.

"That is where you are wrong, you flea bitten mongrel, I will have Nebhet's daughter and you will help me."

Seth's being merged with Tyler's. He could feel his presence beneath his skin and the thoughts that pulled at the dark corners of his mind.

_United, Damon cannot defeat us…_

He wanted to fight Seth's control, but the idea appealed to him, tugged at the very depths of his soul.

_Bonnie will be ours…_


	10. Inevitable Relapse

_Thank you for sticking with this and taking the time to send me your comments and questions. Things will definitely begin to grow a lot clearer. Also just a background, Damon and Eric have an understanding. You could almost call them friends, but it is a little of a love - hate relationship and they easily drift into the side of hate, especially if they're after the same PERSON, place, or thing. More on the turn with Tyler in the next update. _

**_Inevitable Relapse_**

Bonnie found Damon's sexy and slumped frame in the chair beside her bed. A lock of black hair had fallen over into his eyes, shielding the crystal blue orbs from her vision. His chest rose and fell mimicking a living, breathing man. She'd found him like this before, perched in a chair, watching her as she slept, only to allow himself to be carried away by thoughts, dreams, and fantasies into a restful state that bordered on the shadow of death. And just like now there was a smirk present, one that told her he was awake and aware of her scrutiny.

"Blondie won't talk to me if I fake sleep."

She laughed. Yes Ginger was beyond annoying.

"When did Pam and Eric go to ground?"

Damon shrugged, creeping to the edge of the bed and placing a blood stained Kleenex in her lap.

She shook her head and threw her hands up in the air, "I'm tired."

He continued. "You can't keep going like this."

It had started years before, Katherine's re-emergence and the toll that the constant use of power took on Bonnie's body. She would recover, with weeks of rest and a ban on the use of magic, but each time she got closer and closer to her grandmother's fate; the final straw coming when Bonnie fell into a coma like state after she thwarted an attack from rival weres who had a gripe with Tyler and Mason.

Bonnie and Damon had discovered a trick during the first few months they spent together. It was an accident, really. A result of some kinky and frowned upon bedroom play had revealed to Bonnie, that with Damon's blood in her system she could go much further for a lot longer. It was their secret, an exchange of blood before the final climax and the witch was battle ready.

Then their relationship ended and she was back to square one.

"I hate Jeremy for telling you."

The younger Gilbert grew to be a trusted confidant and aide; unfortunately he tried a little too hard to get in the elder vamp's good graces and spilled the beans about her health after their break-up. She'd tried sipping from blood bags stolen from the morgue, but she quickly discovered that you had to be bonded to the vampire you drank from in order for the mystical healing to take place. Chalk it up to the wonderful Bennett genes.

"No you don't, someone finally had to stand up to you."

She rolled her eyes. The only hope for relief was changing the subject, "Where's Ty?"

He bristled under her words. "I don't give a fuck where the mangy beast is, Bonnie you're killing yourself. You need…"

"I'm not taking your blood again, that is out of the question." She stood, wobbling a little on her feet, hating that his arm was there to steady her, "You're in my head all the time. I can feel you in my veins, NO."

She hated the comfort that his presence in her subconscious provided. The fact that in her dreams they were happy, stronger despite the slip he made with his greatest object of lust. She loved him and that was something she could only face in the solitude of her mind behind the blackness of lowered lids. Admitting that fact right now, right here would prove that she couldn't move on and she was just as twisted and a little evil to even bring Tyler into the chaos created by what she shared with Damon.

It would be so easy to give in. She watched the vein throb in his neck and her body awakened. She knew what was happening – knew he could sense it – smell her. He moved closer, enticing her to make the inevitable decision. Instead she protected herself with an offensive strike directed at the vampire's temple.

Damon pushed through the pain and forced her down on the bed, "Listen you're not invincible – take the blood or let me turn you."

Bonnie saw the tears form at the corners of his eyes. She opened her mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the overbearing presence of Eric. Damon's face contorted with the realization they were no longer alone.

"Did I interrupt an illicit moment – can I watch?" His deep laughed filled the room, "No this is a lover's spat?"

Damon stood and squared his shoulders, challenging the vampire's infringement on his territory, "Just trying to convince this stubborn…"

Bonnie screamed through clenched teeth, "Say one more word and I swear I will light your ass on fire and watch you burn like you're walking in the sun without your precious ring."

Eric retrieved the tissue that started the former couple's disagreement. He quietly perused it before motioning for Damon to return to the chair beside the bed. He positioned himself before the witch and in spite of her desire to remain obstinate she couldn't help but met his concerned gaze.

"Too much Sol in you."

The vampire spoke of her father with such reverence. It warmed her; she wanted to ask him more, about the man her father was before the heart break and responsibility of parenthood. Was he a powerful warlock in the days prior to renouncing his gift?

Bonnie watched as Eric spoke over his shoulder to Damon. His accent pure perfection and totally decadent as he spoke in what she presumed to be the younger vampire's native tongue. He was unsatisfied with the response he received.

Eric turned his attention back to Bonnie, "Little one – listen."

She was entranced by his words; the gentleness in his touch as he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"There is much you need to know, Damon will tell you, but the fact remains, that without the blood, you will not survive."

Her eyes drifted to where Damon sat on the edge of his seat.

"However, Damon's blood will never do."

Bonnie's attention returned to Eric.

"You will take mine."

Damon responded to the declaration by lunging across the room, only to meet Eric's vice like grip and bared fangs.

"Contain your emotions ingrate. You are a mere infant in comparison to my years, drinking your blood is like sipping on water."

Damon's eyes flitted between Bonnie and Eric. For the first time she saw helplessness in those bright beautiful pools of blue. With little effort the Viking vampire threw the younger, emotionally charged underling into the wall.

Bonnie quickly lined up her defense in an attempt to circumvent any of Eric's latent desires.

"It won't work, I'm…" She paused not ready to state the truth everyone in the room had already known, "I'm bonded to Damon not you."

Eric massive frame caused the bed to sink as he hovered above her, dropping one knee and then another to the mattress; the close proximity of his body, created unwelcomed and surprising sensations within her.

"Are you sure about that?"

His voice dropped an octave as his breath breezed across her skin. She shivered, her fingers threading through the closely cropped blonde hair that covered his head. She could smell spices and incense surrounding her. She could feel him, moving inside of her, learning her body, and taking it for his own.

They weren't her memories.

Fangs grazed her skin as her body buckled under the weight of the need he created within her.

"There's more Ebe than Sol in you." The words tickled the ear nipped and tugged at while he licked the small trickle of the blood that had begun to run.

All of this, the recollections, the ghosts of moments past, was from a time when he'd been more than a friend to her mother. She must have been one hell of a woman.

Bonnie locked eyes with Eric, "The name is Bonnie and there's only one vampire..."

The remainder of her statement was silent but she was sure the aggressor understood.

Eric's lips twisted into a smirk, _He doesn't deserve you._

The response resonated inside of her mind.

_I know but you can't fight fate._

Eric stood, straightening his clothes and helping Damon up from the floor. He returned to actually speaking instead of conversing in looks and mental whispers, "Your mother made sure you were tied to me, the blood exchange will work, even we forego the sensual pleasure of it all, _for now._" He winked before disappearing from the room.

Bonnie and Damon found themselves alone again.

"Damon, is there something you need to tell me?"

The vampire took both her hands in his before bringing her palms to his mouth and kissing them gently.

"I could ask you the same thing."


	11. Unforgettable and Unforgivable

_Hello out there. Thanks for the reviews, faves, and alerts. Glad you're still with me. This one is a bridge chapter and takes place immediately after the last update. Bonnie and Damon are still dysfunctional. Also, keep in mind that our girl is slightly unaware of the personal battle she's fighting between light and dark magic. She's wavering and that is shown in this chapter with her treatment of Damon. _

_Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to share your thoughts with me. Love you guys. _

**_Unforgettable and Unforgivable_**

Eric left Bonnie and Damon alone. She was unsure with how much of the exchange he understood. Yes, the bond was real with the Louisiana vampire. It was different than the one she had established with Damon during the early days of their relationship – obsession –

"We need to find Tyler, _now_."

Bonnie slipped her hands from Damon's grasp. She faced the bed, taking a moment to collect her thoughts and calm her frazzled nerves. It was a lot to take in; Damon being so close caused a fissure in her normally controlled emotions. She needed to be honest, wanted to truthful, but she wasn't ready to deal with the fallout. For now she would focus on finding Ty, convincing him to go home to the safety of Mystic Falls, so she could sort out the rest of her twisted history. Unfortunately she needed Eric and Damon for the remainder of this little fact finding mission and she prayed to anyone who would listen that Tyler would understand that.

Damon's eyes were soft when she spun to face him. She hated this side of the vampire, the part that could read and translate her unspoken thoughts. It was a gift he possessed prior to their truce and jaded romance.

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, "I don't like it, but if taking Eric's blood, will keep you safe - you have to do it."

She attempted to side – step the vampire only to be pulled tighter in his grip.

"This is not about Tyler. Not right now. This is about us little witch."

She twisted and found that his control on her was stronger, part of the weakness that came from submitting to her true feelings.

"You still love me." His lips brushed her ear. "I don't know why but you do." He was an idiot, incapable of seeing everything he was to her. "I've seen stronger women fall to Eric's charms and you…"

How long had he really known Eric and who was stronger than Katherine, a Bennett, or the goddess who had brought her into this world? Her interests churned into a soft anger and she knew the temperature of her skin would be hard for him to touch. Damon released her and stepped back. She moved closer.

"What do you mean you've seen stronger women fall to Eric's charms?" The connotation confused Bonnie, but she became aware that he knew more than he was sharing. "What do you know Damon? What do you know about all of this?"

This time, Bonnie took a step back and scrutinized Damon, his shoulders fell, a sure sign of his guilt. She crossed her arms against her chest and waited.

"Bennett, I need you to understand…"

"Stop stalling and spill it Salvatore."

Damon eased into the chair by the door, "Eric's right, there is a lot of Sol and Ebe in you." He lowered his lashes shielding the shame in his eyes, "I've known everything for years – the prophecy – the warning about the impending battle – I knew your mother."

She was out of tears. There was no more water that could fall from her eyes. Everything was closing in on her. He'd known what it felt like to cry about a woman she could barely remember. Grainy images on the surface of her memory that disappeared a little more each day; stories that faded with his father's last breath. Damon shared in the burden of Bonnie's pain surrounding the loss of her family and all along he'd held on to valuable information that would have filled the empty gaps in her soul.

She slapped him, not once or twice, but three times. Each time was more forceful, first with her open hand, then with the back of her hand, and finally with a near punch that split his lip and drew blood.

"I fucking hate you." Her eyes filled with tears but she couldn't see him in the haze of her anger, "You…" She went for him again and he grabbed her wrists, preventing any further attacks.

He walked her back to the bed and she noted the hurt in his eyes. She'd seen it before, the night of his betrayal. This was different. This sin was unforgettable and definitely unforgivable. She attacked him mentally, struck his body physically, her hands still held captive by his but her power strong enough to lash out at his face, chest, legs, and back. He cringed, holding on to her and staring into her eyes. She continued, repeating the invisible strikes, but she took little to no comfort in the visible display.

Damon forced her closer; the air was heavy with the scent of his blood.

"Bonnie, I need you to listen." He loosened his hold and wiped the small drop of blood flowing towards her top lip, "After that, you can hate me for all eternity, but just listen, _please._"

She nodded, accepting the tissue he offered, returning to a semblance of her self and curling up on the bed with a pillow and the tissue clutched tightly to her chest.

"When Emily asked me to protect her children and the Bennett line for the remainder of my days, she spoke of one witch, a special child," Bonnie lifted her eyes and watched his face as he recounted the details shared with him over a century ago.

"Me?"

Damon met her gaze, "Yes." He joined her on the bed. "Emily wasn't sure but she knew you would be more than a witch, blessed with a power that no one else in the line would ever know." He stood, turning his back to Bonnie, "Solomon was almost as stubborn as you. I blame Sheila, something with that one changed, she could be such a bitch and she passed it on to both of you."

Bonnie smiled, remembering her grandmother's strong dislike for Damon Salvatore. She always thought it was because he was an evil vampire, but something told her, he'd blocked too many of Sheila's hippie days of fun.

"I followed him to Shreveport when he ran off to get married after college." He was looking at her again, smirk lining his lips, "You started a fire at the high school car wash, Sol, imploded entire buildings. He never got a grip on his gift. Powerful as hell, just had no patience or discipline, and then he met Ebe."

She wanted to interrupt but she knew he had to tell this story at his own pace. His fingers found her cheek and traveled the curve her jaw, the slope of her neck, before he placed his hand back in his lap. She mourned for the loss of his touch.

"Solomon was different. He found peace with Ebe. He knew his place was at her side and that's all that mattered. He couldn't stop touching her or the tiny bump of her belly."

Bonnie got lost in his face and the calm that settled around him as he shared his memories, "I could feel the life in her, you, the baby in her belly." His arm wrapped around her waist and he drifted closer, whispering in her ear. "Your thoughts were clear and strong, even then, Emily and her witchy mojo, I could hear you. Ebe sensed it. I didn't know what she was, I thought another powerful witch – Voodoo priestess…"

Damon's voice trailed off and Bonnie allowed her head to roll back on his shoulder. He kissed her forehead before continuing.

"I've known Eric for a long time. It was obvious how he felt about Ebe, but he respected her choice, honored her wishes. Yet, if she asked him to lay down his life, he would. He's loyal and always repays any debts he owes. Unknowingly, your father and Bree, established a supernatural link between you and Eric during that visit. Ebe planted the seed of the spell in your father's mind and he carried it out without hesitation It's not like what we have, it's stronger, held in place by a magic only the underworld can understand."

She twisted her neck to see his eyes. There was a far away look there, Bonnie nudged him with an elbow, "And you."

"She read me, told me the name of every girl I would drain, each neck I would snap, and how the eyes of her daughter would heal every wound in my condemned soul."

Bonnie cried, unable to hold back the one question she was dying to ask, "Did she love me?"

Damon didn't speak for longer than she felt necessary. He only stared. He understood her fears. He'd grown up in the shadow of a man that only saw the woman who betrayed him in Damon's eyes. He'd longed for his father's love, only to feel the sting of his constant rejection.

His voice was soft when he spoke, "More than her throne - immortality – she left for your safety. She exists between life and death. Trapped by Osiris, to protect her offspring, and empower her allies to defeat Auset, or you may know him as Seth; the impotent ex-asshole consumed with fucking everybody over and over again."

Damon's words brought Bonnie back to reality. Seth was the man from Fangtasia. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

"We really need to find Ty, _now._"

Bonnie hopped up; slipping on a pair of jeans and a black button down shirt she'd stolen from Damon months before. He walked up to her from behind, stilling her motion with the liberties he took in trailing kisses along the nape of her neck. Something new surged within her and she slammed him against the wall with a flicker of a thought.

"Nothing has changed Damon." His face twisted in pain. She stepped closer, delighting in the scent of his fear. Damon Salvatore was afraid. The monster had finally met his match. "You lied to me again, when this is over, stay away from me or I'll burn you alive."

Weakened by the excessive showing of power, Bonnie slowly slid her feet into her shoes but kept her head held high. Her heart was breaking – her mind reeling – her thirst for vengeance reignited.


	12. Bound by the Power of the Mind

_**Bound by the Power of the Mind  
**_

"Pious little witch."

Bonnie ignored Eric's taunt. She turned her head and stared out the window; watching the scenery masked in darkness fly by the glass. Eric drove like he did everything else, methodically with way more speed than the average person, vamp, or supernatural being. He was also annoying and determined to get under her skin at all cost.

_Pious little witch…_

Eric's voice filled Bonnie's head, causing a dull ache starting in her temples and radiating behind her eyes with a constant throbbing sensation. The taste of his blood still lingered on her tongue. Pungent – bitter, laced with years of experience and pain. Her heart ached for Eric and the countless losses he'd suffered. She understood him and strangely his subdued emotions provided a key to the vampire who still held her heart captive. The Viking had loved, deeply, the family he'd lost; including the father he only desired to make proud. There was still affection in his heart for her mother, Ebe, but something new had blossomed. Not only the natural urges to consummate the tentative bond between the witch and the vampire, there was something else. A blonde with deep eyes and a lazy southern drawl, owned what was left of his soul. Seeing it – feeling it, Bonnie knew that Damon was capable of loving her the way she needed and desired. What Eric craved from Bonnie sexually couldn't even measure up to what was housed in his heart for the nameless woman who monopolized his thoughts… _Sookie; h_er name slipped from the depths of Eric's thoughts.

She swallowed, digging for gum or a mint, whatever she could find in her purse. The bouquet of Eric's blood was overpowering. The exchange had been simple and vaguely sensual, much to the elder vamp's dismay. He'd slit his wrist and offered it to her lips. She drank before she felt his cold fingers caress the bones connecting her arm to her hand. She knew it had been Damon's stipulation that Eric not drink from her neck or any other place the younger vampire held sacred. So when Eric's fangs pierced the flesh where her pulse beat rapidly, she dimmed the arousal bubbling just below the top layer of her skin. Things were beyond confusing with only Tyler and Damon involved, she didn't need to add a third player to the game.

Bonnie shook off the thought and fought to center her mind. Since the blood swap, it was difficult for her to focus. Everything flooded her conscious in fragments. In the first few moments it was difficult to distinguish Eric's mental voice from Damon's and then the faint cry of Tyler's mind broke through the darkness. She'd never experienced anything like it. In the months that she'd been involved with the werewolf, the two had not connected on a spiritual realm. That was only something she'd enjoyed with Damon. She blamed her heightened senses as a result from the blood coursing through her veins.

Slowly her mind calmed and the concern surrounding both vampires swirled around head and the moonchild's voice calmed. Damon was frightened and Eric was horny. She was unmistakably aware of his intention to experience a brief moment of intimacy. There were no underlying needs for love or affection, pure, tainted, filthy lust.

"My dearest Bonnie, you speak of trust and honesty."

She sighed, knowing where the conversation was headed.

"Sentencing Mr. Salvatore, to a life without you, because of his omissions, and yet your blood sings for him."

_Eric…_

She closed her eyes and allowed her breaths to flow in through her nose and out through her mouth. Relaxation was the key, as her body awakened, and without an exorbitant amount of power, Bonnie sent a tremor of pain down Eric's spine. Her body rejuvenated and charged with a fresh dose of authority since ingesting the ancient's blood.

"I go to recover your pet and you strike me with your mind, tsk, tsk, Bon Bon."

She cringed with his use of Damon's nickname. It was time to retaliate.

"Who's Sookie?"

The question was simple; however the sensations pouring off Eric were complicated. She was sure now that what he felt for her was lust. She recognized the pure, unadulterated emotion of love.

Eric avoided the question and shut down the link between them. He gripped the steering wheel and increased the speed of the vehicle by twenty.

"Damon did only what he was asked." His eyes remained on the road before them. "Ebe swore him to secrecy. He would give his life for you."

"I know."

That was the problem. Even in the days when they were _nothing_, enemies joined to defeat a common threat, Damon Salvatore had never been inclined to go above and beyond in the name of protecting her. He did what was required by Emily. At the time she had Jeremy and she was comfortable with the innocent friendship that bloomed between them. It was the younger Gilbert who called Damon on his feelings. The way in which he always positioned himself in front of the witch during battle, how he dotted on her when her life hung in the balance between life and death with the increased use of her craft. Love had made Damon Salvatore a blind fool. She'd allow her heart to bear the loss of him, before she watched him meet his final death.

"Damon's a stubborn pest. If you decide on a life with this…_this_…beast, he will watch and wait for the day that he can have you."

She needed to learn the shutting down the link trick immediately.

"I…"

"Ebe stood by your father until the day she could no longer walk in this realm. She loves him even now, cowardice, was a trait neither of your parents possessed. Don't bring into your blood line now."

He pulled into the space in front of the motel door. She eased from the seat and made her way to the room number Damon had provided, unsure of what would happen next, but fully aware that she couldn't return to the life she'd lived in the days preceding the revelation knowledge she'd received from the vampires in her life.

XoXo

Tyler woke with his back pressed against the door. His body ached. His stomach churned. He looked around the room, no Damon, no Bonnie. He stood, his eyes glazed over, and vision hazy. He smelt her before her heard her tiny fist knock on the door. He snatched the wood off the hinges, opening it in haste before lifting her into his arms. It had only been three days but it felt like an eternity. He had the insatiable urge to take her there, proving to any and all that could see she belonged to him.

He laced his fingers through her hair and pushed her head into the crook of his neck. Her body was rigid; Damon's scent coated her skin, and another…another…bloodsucker…his force lingered in her blood. He growled, he could feel the deep rumble reverberate against her. She twisted in his arms, struggling to release her body from his grasp. She was fighting him; creating more distance, than what already existed, between them.

It was an untamed reaction, throwing Bonnie into the wall, taking on a defensive stance, and lunging towards her. Her form was tiny, crouched in the corner, the faintest movement visible, as her chest rose and fell.

Frigid hands gripped his throat and Tyler saw his life pass before him. It was the same one, the man whose deathly venom filled her veins. He met the man's crystal blue eyes and the fangs dangerously close to his throat.

Bonnie's scream pierced the air. It was a siren's song, buzzing in his ears and forcing his attacker to drop him to the ground so that he could grip his head to alleviate the agony created by the petite beauty's voice. Tyler's skin crawled; anger filled him, as he met her golden gaze. His hands burned with a foreign power as he stretched his arms towards Bonnie, forcing her mouth shut with one full sweep of his fingers through the air.

Darkness overtook him and the last thing he remembered was the fear that registered on her face as knelt before her.


	13. How Much Do You Love Her

_Closer and closer we are getting to the show down. I know I promised follow up with Tyler and Bonnie in the next one. I'm sorry, the story demanded a different direction. The next update will feature what happens post the hotel room exchange. _

_A special thank you babyshan for being such a consistent reader and follower of this tale. I really appreciate it :)_

_Also I see everyone alerting and faving, thank you again. _

_**H**__**ow Much Do You Love Her**_

Bonnie was angry and Damon couldn't blame her, if the situations were reversed and she had betrayed him with Tyler while they were together, he would have murdered the werewolf and tortured the witch until she understood the pain she'd created. Instead, she'd quietly walked away, forgiven him, and carried on with her life. Yet there was something bubbling below the surface, a need for retribution. Eric had been correct, darkness was becoming enticing, and courting the young witch – goddess daily. Damon and Bonnie had played violently before, all in the name of stimulating foreplay, but tonight he had feared for his undead life. She held the power to end it and at the same time she was not strong enough to survive her offensive attack. Her emotions were a tumultuous roller coaster ride of doom.

He raked his hands through his hair and allowed his eyes to close. The air in the room shifted, falling to a chilly temperature way below zero. He wasn't alone, he'd walked with death long enough to know when one of its favored companions paid him a visit.

"How much do you love her?"

The voice was a whisper, tickling the curve of his ear. He could smell her, it was similar to Bonnie's scent, everything that was dangerous and seductive; the woman that his lover hid from the rest of the world but shared freely with him. It had been years since Damon heard Ebe's voice. At one time he'd been frightened by who and what she represented; the woman who held the keys to death and the heart of the underworld's servant. It was pointless to ignore her presence, fight her hold. She was there, even though his eyes could not see her, he could feel her; taste the power that filled the air.

"It's been a long time Salvatore." She was circling the chair where he sat, "I admire you, chasing your destiny, loving, adoring, draining, using witch after witch until you found the _one_ the prophecy spoke of."

He tried to stand and he found that his limbs were constricted.

"What if I told you, that she will never be yours? That Bonnie's purpose, her destiny must remain separate from yours, would you leave now, allow Seth to have what he desires most, or would you fight?"

The answer was simple.

"Bonnie will always be my soul."

For a moment he saw her, eyes golden, almond shaped like her daughter's, hair black and a trail of wavy ribbons down her back, skin smooth, unblemished, and the perfect shade of copper.

"All is not what it seems, protect her Damon, she needs you."

And like that, his muscles relaxed and his body eased from the chair. Seconds later, Pam burst through the door of the room.

"Come on skinny jeans, Eric's in trouble."

It was a faint cry, muffled by the natural authority seeping from Eric's blood, Bonnie's voice singed his ears, and he knew that the battle had finally begun.

The two vampires folded into Pam's car without argument and peeled out of the underground garage Eric had built under his home. Much to Damon's dismay they headed for Bon Temps.

"I thought we were going to Eric?"

Pam rubbed his knee, "Relax sweet stuff, let the real vampire handle this search and rescue mission, there's a little pit stop we have to make."

Damon tried to remain calm. He didn't dislike Pam, in fact, he'd never admit it, but she reminded Damon of him self. Attractive, cursed with unparalleled charm, and down right sinister when necessary.

Pam had fallen in love with a mortal man years before. It was during the time she spent separated from her master. She'd loved the man, nursed him in his old age, and watched as he refused to accept her offer of immortality. She'd traded true love for blinded devotion, returning to Shreveport and serving as Eric's first in command.

He removed her hand from his thigh, "I thought you only played with the girls now."

"For shame, who would pass up the chance for a taste of Damon Salvatore?"

He shook his head, "Where are we going?"

Pam returned to business as usual, "We need a shaman or two."

The home was elaborately decorated for a glorified trailer. Damon quickly recognized the splash of color as a sign, a symbol of the lifestyle embraced by the home's owner. Purple, pink, blue, and yellow, "Pam are…"

"One hundred and fifty years Salvatore and you're still squeamish about the same sex goodness that life has to offer, you really don't know what you're missing."

"I'll pass." He rose from the low passenger's side seat.

"Lafayette doesn't play disrespect, so watch yourself or he'll throw some glitter on you."

Damon quickly discovered a newfound respect for the man covered in the leopard print robe, especially when he heard, "Shit," coupled with, "What the hell does this dead bitch want," behind the metal door. The feeling was fleeting, especially when his eyes glazed over with lust after one sweep of the eldest Salvatore's form. He couldn't blame him, he was irresistible.

Pam stepped between the two, "Where's your little boy toy, we need you to invoke a spirit, but not just any spirit, a goddess." She crossed the threshold without an invitation.

"Damn."

The home's owner muttered.

"My sentiments exactly," Damon responded with a firm clap on the man's shoulder.

A green – eyed man appeared from the back of the house, half sleep, and completely naked. What had Pam gotten him into? Lafayette and Jesus, he learned after a sloppy introduction and the recovery of some sweatpants, were novice shamans, both descending from powerful lines of magic; Jesus, from the Mesas and Lafayette from the origins of Yoruba in Africa.

"Look Lady, I told your maker, that this fine ass was no longer on your payroll."

Pam laughed, "Delusional little human, your ties with us, stops when Eric says so." She settled on the couch and crossed her legs, "Now let's talk business."

Damon stood with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Studying the effigies scattered around the living room, some religious, and others magical. There was a statue he recognized, one that was a likeness of Ebe, in her true form.

"Sucka, stay away from my shit, you know nothing about the dangers of that kind of magic."

It was his turn to smile and unnerve those who had welcomed him into their home, Damon's eyes darkened and his fangs broke free of his gums, "Watch your mouth RuPaul."

"What the fuck, are you fangers multiplying like rabbits?"

Pam took over, "Lafayette, we need you and your little _friend_ to raise Nebhet, and channel her spirit through another supernatural, one of your kind, a witch."

Lafayette threw his arms up, "Y'all done lost your damn minds, it will kill her, plus, who knows what kind of hit list that crazy bitch Nebhet has in store for the world – hell fuck no."

Jesus stepped forward, voice calm, body totally free of tension, "Is it the child the prophecies spoke of."

Damon nodded, "Yes."

The decision was made as Jesus motioned for Lafayette to prepare the table, "We'll do it, but I just have one question for you." Green eyes met blue, "How much do you love her?"


	14. Motives

_Hello Babes. Guess who is snowed in again. I apologize for the lack of updates or responses to reviews in the past few weeks. Work and my Human Resources Management class is threatening to drive me insane. So enjoy the few days I get to play. This chapter transitions us into the final arc of this little journey. We meet a new player in this one. Mixed Signals update coming today too :). As always, thank you for being awesome readers and I hope you enjoy._

_**Motives**_

Eric's eyes popped open. He'd been plagued, harassed, and tortured by the incessant dripping of water, for hours. Burdened by the necessity for rest and recovery; he was sentenced to endure the irritation. Now after night had befallen the land again, he turned his neck and stretched the limbs that had folded beneath him for the duration of his time sequestered.

He was uninjured.

There was little he remembered about their capture, due to his unconscious state. Yet their were things seared into his memory, the emboldened look on the young wolf's face, the sheer terror held in the witch's eyes, and the helplessness that ebbed and flowed throughout his system. At the moment he felt rejuvenated. The thirst for blood caused his mouth to water and his fangs to extract from his gums. His hunger could only be sated by the taste of one woman's blood. He cursed Ebe for her requested favors and treacherous games. She'd known the young vamp was destined to love and protect her child; still the goddess had linked the Viking to the girl in a way even he could not comprehend. He shook of his confusion and employed the wisdom given to him by both fathers; a slain king and his beloved Godric.

Eric could smell the witch; Bonnie was near. Her heart beat strongly, and the faint sounds of her shallow intakes of breath drifted to his hyper sensitive ears. She was sleeping. He listened to the quiet rhythm created as she slowly inhaled and exhaled, allowing it to soothe the raging beast within.

_Tyler__. _

Just thinking the prick's name destroyed his calm visage and chipped away at the carefully crafted concentration focused on the well being of the green – eyed beauty. She had chosen an imbecile.

Bonnie Bennett proved to be just as obstinate as her father. The relationship with the werewolf was based solely on denying her feelings for Damon and gaining some type of retribution for her broken heart. Eric had watched as the young wolf attacked her in senseless violence only to break down in inconsolable grief after his moment of indiscretion.

It was illogical.

The sheriff blamed animalistic rage or jealousy stemming from the scent of another vamp on her skin.

That was logical.

The demigoddess was a gift. Beauty and power wrapped into one enticing body. She evoked strong reactions from both supes, they were driven to protect and possess. Maybe it was her blood or true love. In spite of what he felt for the waitress from Merlotte's, Eric's attachment to Bonnie continued to grow. Strategy kept him from destroying the walls around him and killing everything in his path. He would wait. They were here for a reason.

He shuddered to think that _it_ was possible…

"It couldn't be."

The vampire mused.

Had Seth gained influence over the furry brat?

Was the vengeful, love scorned god behind all of this?

It wasn't by happenstance that crazed god had returned to the site of their last battle.

Eric had mounted a successful offense twenty – three years before. Allowing Ebe and Sol to escape with their lives and safely return to Mystic Falls for the impending birth of their child. Bree, Damon, and a coven of sexy but foolish witches, who owed a mountain of favors to the vampire sent Seth packing back to the underworld, without his wife, or the half human child sired by one of the most powerful families to come from Salem's line of witches. Eric didn't know how much Seth knew. The prophecies were old, foretold long before his coronation into the world of the undead. What was beyond Seth's interest, was it the final play in a war waged during the early days of the love affair of the Egyptian gods, or did he have an ulterior motive? Whatever the case may be, now he was a danger to precocious little witch and the supernatural community Eric Northman revered.

Amazingly, there were greater problems looming on the horizon.

Bonnie's power was growing. He'd noted it the night she'd aided Damon during his battle with the sheriff. It was an intoxicating bouquet of sweat, sugar, and sex; three of his favorite things. While they were latent, he was sure that her misguided boyfriend's attack and the plan Eric had put into motion through Pam would shatter the protective glass and unleash a substantial and potentially deadly endowment hidden in her veins.

The summation of Nebhet…Ebe frightened him, even with everything he'd seen, endured, and overcome. If the young mystic didn't embrace her mother's spirit and power, it would surely tear hear from limb to limb. There would be nothing he could do to correct the damage and no amount of blood Damon Salvatore could force down her throat to reanimate her disheveled frame.

Never had Eric Northman been a religious man, but he whispered a tarnished prayer to the heavens, hoping that someone would listen.

Tyler raked his hands through his hair.

What had he done?

He remembered the overwhelming sense of relief that consumed him, upon first sight of Bonnie's face and finally holding her in his arms. It had morphed into something sick and twisted, forcing him to attack her. He could smell Damon on her skin. He knew that in spite of everything she said or didn't say to him, that her heart was still bound to vamp that had shattered it into tiny pieces.

That awareness coupled with the presence of a new vamp, sent him over the edge.

She'd been frightened by his display of anger. Instead of reassurance, he responded with rage compounded on top of anger. He felt betrayed and used. He knew his future with Bonnie was limited, unless the agreement with disturbing visitor proved successful. It would be worth it, he would make her see that, understand that what he'd done was out of love.

There were faint bruises decorating her skin from the tightness of his grip, she shook and trembled in her sleep, crying for Damon and Eric. He reached for her in an attempt to soothe her troubled spirit and it seemed to disturb her more. She wailed and tears fell from her eyes.

What had he done?

He pulled the blanket up to her neck and waited.

Tyler blacked out in the hotel room. Only faint images of the beginning of his attack on Bonnie were able to be recalled, he didn't know how she sustained the resulting injuries, bruises, split lip, and swollen jaw. He felt Seth, beneath the surface of his consciousness.

Why…this wasn't worth it…

Tyler was no closer to destroying Damon Salvatore or returning to Mystic Falls with Bonnie.

_At least she's here with you._

His eyes darted around the room, seeking the source of the voice, before he realized it came from inside of his head.

_We had a deal Mr. Lockwood._

Tyler covered his hands with his ears in an attempt to drive the voice from his thoughts. He was officially losing his mind.

"I'm sorry." He whispered as he moved his body further away from the bed where Bonnie slept. He ignored the lust awakened by the patches of bare unblemished skin that peeked from beneath sheets covering her bare form.

_A promise is a promise…_

Again he fought the desire to overtake her; he'd missed her, longed for her, but the insatiable need that could not be attributed to any feelings, desires, or emotions he harbored for her.

The perverted yearning belonged to Seth.

That is who the young wolf continued to blame as he stepped closer to the woman he adored, slowing stripping his body of his sweat soaked clothing. He pulled back the covers and whispered his second apology of the night before he covered her body with his.

The candles illuminated the room and the constant chanting of Lafayette and Jesus slowly began to unnerve Damon. Jesus had taken the time to explain what would happen if they were successful. They were fighting to destroy the wall that kept Nebhet in the prison Osiris had created for her. If they could release her, she would need a form to take. She would seek out the closest living thing related to her. In this case Bonnie. The young witch would be possessed. In most instances, the host form did not survive. They had to rely on Bonnie's connection to Nebhet, as well as the untapped potential in her blood.

Intercession would also have to be made on behalf of their request. Only the dead could venture into the underworld and this is where Jesus' question to Damon gained relevance. The vampire would have to kneel at Osiris' throne and plead Nebhet's case. If his love was true, the god would be inclined to comply, otherwise, judgment would be passed on Mr. Salvatore and he would be sentenced to remain with the lost souls tortured with sorrow and pain for eternity in god's kingdom.

Yes, he loved her, that much.

Then it occurred to Damon, Bonnie had ingested a significant amount of Eric's blood, if she died as a result of Nebhet's little invasion of the body snatchers trick, she would be a vampire, but not just any old fanger. A child sired by one of the most powerful and ancient vamps on the east coast. She would no longer have any ties to Damon. He would lose her forever.

And that was the best case scenario…

Worst case…

Seth reached Bonnie and took what he needed before Nebhet had a chance to merge her essence with her daughter.

"Damon we're ready for you."

He walked to the table, linking hands with the shamans before taking his seat. He was no stranger to the mystical arts, this felt different. Bonnie's magic was warm, comforting, semi – erotic.

_This_ scared him.

The voices around him grew distant and when he opened his eyes, Damon found himself before the one and only Osiris.

He knelt, head bowed to the ground, and tears of frustration burning the lids covering his eyes. A breeze ripped through his body, chilling what was left of his soul. He raised his head to meet the hardened gaze of the impressive man standing above him.

"Welcome young Salvatore, I've been waiting a long time for you to finally make it home."


	15. The Masks We Wear

_I have no excuses. Outside of a few negative reviews and comments here and there. A minor pity party. A busy life. Now I'm back. This tale is close to the end. Maybe two to three more chapters and that's it. Mixed Signals update, cross fingers, later tonight. As always, thanks for reading, alerting, and adding to faves. You guys are awesome and rock pretty hard. _

_Be warned that this update contains a few gory details and some allusions to sexual violence. For that the rating goes up and I issue a heartfelt warning if any of that will possibly bother you._

**_The Masks We Wear_**

"This is not my home."

Damon regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He was the big bad in Mystic Falls, here in the underworld; he was as insignificant as a gnat flying around still water. Osiris did not miss the opportunity to remind him of that fact. With one glance, the vampire found his chest ripped open. He reeled from the sight of rotting flesh, organs, and maggots engorging themselves on his form. He brushed them off furiously, only to find his efforts proved futile. He could feel the wretched creatures tearing through flesh, muscle as they journeyed higher. He gagged as they spilled from his mouth.

"Watch your tone, remember you want a favor."

And like that his body returned to perfection.

"I beseech you…"

"State your case Salvatore, my time is valuable. I have no tolerance for your ass kissing ways."

"Release Nebhet," His tone was forceful, urgent, passionate, "Your _brother_ is wrecking havoc on Earth…"

"Set," A roar of a laugh peeled from the god's chest. He jumped from his pedestal to where Damon remained solemnly bowed, eyes cast to the ground. "My brother is an incompetent fool."

Head still downtrodden he spoke, "That fool has Nebhet's daughter, the one born to her while she walked the Earth under the guise that she was a mere mortal." Feeling more comfortable he sat up higher, meeting the inquisitive gaze of the ultimate immortal. "He intends to sire the child denied him many moons ago."

Osiris stood back, motioning for Damon to stand.

"Set plans to complete his betrayal of my throne."

Damon knew he had the being's ear and he continued.

"Bonnie is young, powerful, and unaware of what it means to be the daughter of a goddess. She is a gifted witch…"

Osiris' eyes stretched, "A witch and a demi – goddess." This time the man's laugh was haunting and the fear within Damon grew, "Now I understand, do you Salvatore?"

The throne room transformed to a replica of the library in the home he shared with his brother Stefan. The god walked to a row of books and pulled one from the shelf. It was the exact book, Damon had used to explain Bonnie's story, the history of the Falls, and the difference between the war of North and South to Tyler.

"Your witch is the ultimate combination of good and evil; a daughter of pure magic and the product of the original dark power."

"I know that if Set, Seth, whatever the hell his name is claims her, then she'll be wholly evil, and maybe just what you've all wanted since the beginning of time. I also know that her corruption and the aid it provides Seth will never bring back Isis. I know that if you think your little brother is a pain in the ass now, you ain't seen shit yet."

Damon braced himself for the backhand he knew was sure to come. It never did. He kept his eyes trained on the statuesque form of Osiris. In this setting, he looked like any man; dressed simply in dark slacks and crisp white shirt, his black hair peppered by gray, and concern lighting his amber colored eyes.

"What do you know if I decide to help you?"

It was a challenge. A question to decide the level of delusion Damon suffered from.

"I know that if you help me I will be eternally grateful."

Osiris stole the remaining words from Damon's mouth, "That you will never abuse the witch's heart again. That you will fight to prove to her that your love is pure, does that sound a little like what you were thinking."

Damon only nodded when the man turned to face him.

"My gifts do not come without sacrifice."

He had not prepared for this part of the deal. He would have bargained his heart, life, and soul if he had any of those to give.

"Should we fail and Seth's plan proves successful, I will stay here in hell, where I belong. I will suffer for eternity; just help me save the woman I love."

In the blink of an eye, Damon found himself seated between Jesus and Lafayette. Nothing felt different, until the candles burned to the end of their wick and room was overtaken by darkness. He heard the voice, the same one that had caressed his ears the night before. He saw her form, briefly, and recognized the menacing smirk that her face bore.

Nebhet walked the Earth yet again.

**Y****x****Y****x**

This was not her Tyler.

Bonnie had watched him fight transforming in her presence for fear of attacking her while controlled by his animalistic urges. Now the man that she cared about, at one point and time claimed to love, clawed at the thin satin material separating their bodies. She cried and pleaded, unable to stop his advances. Every spell she chanted failed. He did not clutch his head in pain; he only smiled, dipped his head lower, and pulled the flesh of her neck between his teeth.

He was much heavier than Damon when he straddled her. His strength grew and her tiny fists and bursts of magic, even with Eric's blood pounding through her veins were not enough to combat his attack. She tried a different approach. Caressing his face tenderly, pretending to return his affection, as she cooed in his ear softly.

"I missed you too."

His touch grew softer and then she felt his hands force her thighs further apart as fingers invaded her sacred heat.

"Please Ty, not like this."

He stroked her cheek and she saw him, the redheaded stranger with fire in his eyes and she knew this wasn't Tyler.

Again teeth attacked her neck and he roughly filled her with one then two fingers.

"I wonder if you taste like your mother."

She shut her eyes tightly, blocking the sight of the man masked by Tyler's face, cleaning her essence from his digits. She was sick of tears and weakness. Even if her spells were useless, she would not lose her pride without a fight. So her war continued and he laughed. He forced her hands above her head and bit a trail from her neck, to her breasts, her middle, and finally he hovered above the legs he held apart.

"This is where I'll plant my seed."

_This is where you'll die._

Bonnie heard the voice as did her attacker. His movements stilled and he settled back on the bed; searching the darkness for the source of the tone.

_Hello my daughter._

The words were a whisper only for her ear. Tension recoiled from her limbs with the invisible kiss that brushed across her forehead. Her body tingled as she felt the presence of her mother, the goddess, join with hers. Delicious, untainted power filled her, and with prayers and promises she'd never spoken before, Bonnie sent Tyler's form and Seth's spirit flying from the bed.

She yielded control to her mother.

"Hello husband, we have much to discuss."


	16. Abandon Hope

_I'm working to overcome the block on this one. The update is short but the next one should be longer. Stay tuned and thanks for reading._

_**Abandon Hope**_

A thousand years had come and gone since Eric Northman was turned, and still there were more than a few things that the Viking prince refused to tolerate. One such thing was captivity.

Seth's little mongrel's body would pay for his seclusion in the dark, dank, water logged cell.

It was too quiet beyond the door.

There were no screams.

Bonnie's quiet pleas had been silenced by something or someone.

He was troubled. The constant throb at his temple had ended. The warmth that surrounded the gapping hole that once held his vibrant heart had been replaced by ice. He only stressed about the human waitress in that manner, but now his longed to know about the green eyed girl carved out a special place in his life.

In the beginning aiding Damon had been about keeping a promise to Ebe. Now he found that he was fascinated with the beauty fromMysticFalls. She was determined not to be controlled by her emotions.

It was obvious even to the casual observer that what she shared with the Salvatore twit ran deep.

Still, loyalty was important to her. Eric didn't know if she inherited that gift from the goddess or the warlock. It was something he admired. A trait he treasured in himself when the blood still ran warm in his veins. He'd spent little time obsessing over the Sookie since the Bonnie's arrival. Maybe the witch would decide to stay. There was much he could teach her about her craft and Ebe's exploits. He could show her how to use her power wisely and for the benefit of her bank account. They would make a hell of a sexually charged team.

Eric turned the knob again. He prepped for the pain that would come with touching the silver handle. Instead, he heard the click of the lock, and watched in awe as the door opened for him.

Echoes of laughter filled the halls.

It was a shrill, gut – wrenching voice one he knew all too well.

His child had been successful in swaying Lafayette and Jesus to use their magical talents in their favor. That also meant the other vampire enamored with _his_ witch had made a valiant effort before Osiris' throne.

Ebe's whispers grew more insistent and Eric stealthily followed the directions she offered. He stopped in front of the bedroom door, repelled by the heat that radiated from the wood. Again it separated from the frame welcoming him inside.

The goddess had forced Seth's essence fromTyler's body. The man was strewn in a corner breathing shallowly, while the rogue god was elevated above the ground a prison by the hand of the consort he begged to rule at his side. Ebe still inhabited her daughter's likeness. Bonnie appeared taller, fuller, her beauty grew with the presence of her mother's power. A circle of glowing fire encased her and the witch's emerald orbs had been replaced with glossy onyx pools filled with hatred. Through their bond, Eric could sense the life draining from Bonnie.

There was very little time to end Ebe's game of vengeance.

"Welcome Viking, we were just talking about you."

Seth's likeness phased from nothing to a solid shape as he grimaced in pain.

"I am here Ebe." He hesitantly moved closer, "Let Bonnie's body go, you don't need her to finish what you've started with Seth."

"Foolish undead idiot!"

She screamed turning on him, her eyes filled with fury and rage as tiny hands circled his throat and threatened to crush his windpipe.

"It was never only about avenging my name or ridding this world of Seth."

A simple snap of the fingers erased Seth from the room. His blood curdling cry could be heard as he tumbled back into the open arms of the underworld.

Eric returned his attention to Ebe.

Bonnie was slipping; her heartbeat grew weaker with each second that passed.

"With her body, I can walk the Earth again." Flames replaced the black pupils of Bonnie's eyes, "I can rule mortals, vampires, and wolves alike, I'm a goddess _now_ bow."

Despite his total disagreement, Eric felt his limbs bend beneath him, his head turned downward in the ultimate display of respect.

Hope was soon lost, especially when he saw the blood drip slowly from Bonnie's nose to the ground before him.


	17. Mommie Dearest

_I know...I know...life...finals...too many plot bunnies...this one is almost done and I promise to get everything posted by the end of May. Three more chapters left. Hope you guys enjoy. _

_**Mommie Dearest**_

Damon snatched the keys from Pam's hand.

"Get in."

"Ooohhh, are you going to spank me next?"

He was beyond her immature taunts and childish games. He had to focus to keep from screaming or attempting to rip her throat out. He didn't know how or why but his senses were telling him exactly where Bonnie, Eric, and Tyler were being held. He gripped the handle of the car, tempering his mood and strength.

She stood there smirking and urging him to get over it. His eyes darkened and slowly his fangs broke through his gums. He tasted his own blood and soon if Pam's idiotic behavior continued, the vile liquid from her veins would soon coat his tongue.

"Get in, we don't have much time."

She read the warning in his eyes; no further questions or comments were issued.

"Damon..."

Jesus' voice drifted through the darkness.

"Remember how much you love her."

He nodded in response to the shaman's words before he jumped in the car.

Damon peeled out of the driveway, flexing his grip on the steering wheel as he drove. He'd seen things in hell through Osiris' eyes. Ebe's mission was not as innocent as what she once shared. Her intent was reincarnation, the creation of a new life for her to enjoy by forcing as many people into pain as possible. That had been the bitch's entire purpose for the marriage to Solomon and the birth of their child. It was a bonus that the man was descended from a long line of witches and warlocks. She'd played them all, her husband, Eric, and Damon. They had bent to her whims and now Bonnie's life was in mortal danger.

Eric's blood was in the witch's system, if she _died_...Damon shuddered with the thought...she would live.

What would she become upon opening her eyes and viewing the world in a new light?

Would she still want him?

In spite of their arguments and her ostentatious behavior, Damon knew that her heart was still filled with love for him. If it hadn't been, he would have taken off the ring and walked into the sun years ago.

Tonight, he would save her.

He would accept the consequences if she became a child of Eric Northman, but he would never leave her side. He'd done that once, broken the vows they made to one another during nights where tears and sweat took over for inconsequential words and carried the weight of the feelings they shared.

Bonnie was a part of him.

Emily had seen to that over a century before when she bound her family's line to his. He'd reneged on their agreement in the past. He would honor it tonight and that would be the first in proving to the witch, his witch, that forever was a heartbeat away.

**~`~BB~`~**

Bonnie felt as if she were watching a movie play out before her. The room was in disarray. A circle of fire burned around all parties in play. Power hung heavily in the air. It was a dark sensation that rooted her to the ground in terror and fear. She longed for home; her grandmother's words of wisdom, her father's jambalaya, the kindness that once resided in Tyler's eyes, and the security that could only be found in Damon's arms. She could feel her body weakening. Her limbs were rubber bands stretched beyond their means. Her mind was tired and her thoughts cloudy. Blood drifted from her nose and when she willed her hand to wipe it, nothing happened.

Someone or something else was controlling her.

A voice, Bonnie's voice, cut through the cloud of tension, but they were not her words.

"You honored all of my requests Viking; however, the time has come for you to live no more."

Internally she screamed as her fingers touched Eric's temple. She didn't want to hurt him. He reminded her of Damon, but he was different, colder, a wall around his heart, for fear that it would break when his love went unrequited. He was a warrior, vicious and loyal. He'd stood by her side, understood her rationale, and charged ahead in a battle that had little if anything to do with him. Tears of blood stained his face. He spoke in the tongue of his motherland. He was dying, finally releasing his vice like grip on the fragmented existence he'd borne for over a thousand years. She felt his life force. She couldn't stop it. The power of his blood was draining, why, who would do this?

Ebe...it was her mother.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered her Grams' whispers, "Light packs a hell of a lot more punch than darkness baby girl."

At the time she'd thought her grandmother a fool, until, she the woman's words proven not once or twice but multiple times. Why should this case be any different?

Bonnie called upon her ancestors. Allowing a silent chant to flow through her and merge with the authority reserved to be wielded by the hands of a Bennett. She worried that her act of aggression would not only end Ebe, but it would also, cease the only life she'd known.

It was a chance she was willing to take.

Arming herself with the images of her father's face, surrounded by bottles of liquor, and old Hathaway tunes spinning on the stereo, the witch fought back. She girded her heart, mind, and soul with the fragmented thoughts of a little girl who believed she was never good enough for her mother's love. She trudged forward strengthened by the love of a monster willing to go to hell and back if it meant saving her life.

Bonnie battled against the tainted control of Ebe. Her hands dropped from Eric's cold flesh. The ground beneath her feet shook and the flames raged towards the ceiling.

Finally she was the one back in charge.

"Change of plans mommie dearest."


	18. The Demons of the Past

**The Demons of the Past**

Bonnie opened her eyes and found herself in a sterile white room. There was a small, round high top table and two chairs. Acclimating her body and senses to the new surroundings, she moved cautiously around the room. Air swirled around her tickling the skin of her ankles and causing strands of hair to dance along her shoulders. She took a deep breath, relaxing in the solitary confinement, forgetting for a moment, the stress of the last weeks. Her father's death, the realization of her remaining feelings for her ex, the knowledge that her boyfriend would never overcome the beast that lived inside him, and the mother who had single handedly tried to turn her into a murderer. The events of the evening rushed back and the witch hit her fists against the walls in an attempt to escape. She had to get back.

"Where are you going…we haven't had a chance to talk?"

She whirled around and it was as if she were staring at a mirror image of herself.

The woman was her height, her hair the same length, sleeker, straighter, blacker. Her skin was a smooth, rich shade, deeper with more hints of the sun to it. Her eyes were black as night a clear indication of the woe held in her soul.

"I have nothing to say you."

Bonnie felt it, that searing pain she had buried so many years before when she sat on the top step waiting for her mother to appear on birthdays, holidays, or when someone had called her a mean name at school.

"You judge me and yet you whore yourself out to vampires and mongrels," A burning fingertip traced the curve of Bonnie's jaw, "You're better than that."

The scene changed before her eyes.

They were in her old home. The one her father inhabited before the job change and the move around the corner from the Gilberts. He was by the pool, flipping ribs on the grill, and her mother, Ebe, Nebhet, or whatever persona she chose to be at the moment was there, slicing strawberries.

She felt the fingers brush the bangs from her face.

"Is this the life you wanted?" Ebe floated around her, "Is this why your heart bears so much hatred for me?"

Bonnie shut her eyes, urging the images to shuffle, for a return to the room where Eric lay drained in need of fresh blood andTylerlooked on disheveled and disappointed. Yet when she raised her lids she was still by the pool, feet in the water, watching the parents she'd always desire, tease one another while they prepared for their guests.

"Sol wanted me to be someone I'm not."

The young witch found her voice, "A mother…a wife…"

Ebe's eyes took on the image of burning flames, "A helpless human."

"All he ever did was love you and you punish him for Seth and his maniacal actions."

The vengeance of bitter goddess was worse than anything Bonnie had encountered in the past. It ran deeper than Katherine's rage and the pain of Klaus' lost family. Ebe's eyes held pure hatred and it was directed towards her daughter with perfect precision.

"Young one, please do not mistake my allegiance to the blood that flows through your veins for something akin to love."

Her heart ceased to beat as the immortal being stepped closer.

"My punishment is for every woman reduced to walk in the shadow of an inferior man."

She stepped closer and Bonnie felt the energy in the room change, she was chilled to the bone, "For every mere mortal, supernatural entity, and goddess reduced to be a plaything or dinner for evils that go bump in the night." Ebe held out her hand, "Join me…together…you and I can control the universe."

When Bonnie successfully eradicated her fear she remembered that in the physical realm, Ebe possessed her body. Here on this plane they were two separate beings, if she destroyed her in this space and time, then in the present she would be free of her hold. She focused, recalling the lessons of the grandmother. The confidence she taught her in her gift in their short period of training but it was the life lessons she remembered. The ones she learned in the basement of the Baptist church where she first learned the words of _He's Got the Whole World in His Hands,_ Bonnie prayed and the power that surged through her body gave her the strength she needed to wrap her mind around Ebe's and force her back to silent captivity where she was once held.

It was far from easy images passed before her mind's eye, taunting her with the woman her father had loved; the visage worn by a demon who loved no one but herself. As hatred and bitterness threatened to rule her, compassion and empathy rose to the surface.

Bonnie could feel the depth of the emotions Ebe once held. The devotion she gave her husband and god Seth. The eternal pain she bore as an unbearable weight at the knowledge that their children would never come to fruition for his sins against their kin. Ebe had loved…once…and it was that deeply buried core that Bonnie appealed to with a merciful voice.

"I will release you to rest, if you promise to never hurt the ones I love ever again."

Deep dark pools of black stared back at Bonnie from Ebe's face. Tears flowed over her features. Gone was the beauty of an eternal deity and what remained was the withered skin of a vengeful old woman.

Bonnie could hear the bones as they shattered beneath the exertion Ebe used to part her ancient lips.

"Forgive him…he has always loved you…always…"

The same breeze that had greeted Bonnie upon waking returned. The air smelled of spice and cinnamon, a familiar comfort enveloped her and she felt the warm kiss of her Grams against her cheek. The vessel that once held the elder Bennett's spirit materialized before her.

"It's time for you to go home baby."

Bonnie's eyes filled with tears, "I want to stay with you."

Sheila Bennett moved forward, "This was the first of many journeys you are destined to take. There are valleys meant only for your feet to walk. Guard your heart, baby girl, keep your mind."

"Grams…"

Arms wrapped around the witch's body and voices echoed throughout the room, "We're always here young one…never too far…trust…believe…"

Despite her best efforts to hold on to the fading image of her grandmother, her body failed her, and Bonnie collapsed on the floor.

Soon she was assaulted with new sounds and scents.

When Bonnie opened her eyes again she was staring into her favorite pair of ice blue eyes, "There's my little witch."


End file.
